Facing the death of her mother, 14-year old Katniss Everdeen and her 10-year old sister Prim move in with their widowed maternal grandmother, the apothecary's wife. In a world in which unmarried women cannot own property, Katniss' grandmother arranges with the town baker to marry off her eldest granddaughter at sixteen to protect her in case she dies before the girl is ready to marry.

Luckily for all, Katniss gets to marry the youngest son, her close friend Peeta.

THG ENTIRE SERIES AU, CANON DIVERGENT, OCCASIONALLY USES DIRECT LANGUAGE FROM BOOKS. MAINLY ON AO3 UNDER CASSANDRAO

For most of my life the topic of marriage and weddings was never at the forefront of my mind. It wasn't important to me, so I never thought of it. I thought about my parents' marriage sometimes, but only in passing. I thought about it when older students got married before school ended. I was aware of townsfolks marriage contracts and the like which came and went yearly, like the seasons.

As my sister, Primrose, grew older I started really thinking about wedding season for the first time in my life. I would find myself staring at my sister's youthful face whenever she told me one of her many animated stories and I would just daydream about her being content in a summer day. Joining hands with her beau, a crown woven out of her namesake sitting on her golden head, saying goodbye to her childhood, and in a way to me.

One day, when Prim was ten years old, she wasn't at our usual after school meeting spot. I didn't immediately worry, as Prim had a tendency of getting lost in conversation with her friends after school. She was a well-liked girl and I saw no reason to discourage that.

After going around to her classroom and not finding her there I grew slightly worried, but I didn't grow suspicious yet. She could be at the playground, or in the washroom. She would meet me at our spot soon enough.

After waiting for her for maybe ten minutes she came running towards me. Serious news on the tip of her tongue. I could tell that even from a distance.

Once she reached me, my little sister took me by my hand and sat me down on the steps to the school. In a very serious tone, that under any other circumstance would make me question who the older sibling was after all, she told me that she had been taken out of class hours earlier by a woman named Esther Lightwood, our maternal grandmother.

"She's heard about mothers… condition. She wanted to convince me to talk you into living with her. She would like to become our guardian now, before the inevitable."

"No." My response was immediate. How could I live with a woman that had not sought us out once in our entire lives? Not when we were born, not when our father died, not when the money ran out and I became a poacher rather openly as everything kind of was in this District? What redeemable qualities could a woman like that have?

"Katniss," once again Prim's tone was extremely serious. "Think about it. You're too young to be able to become my legal guardian. The Capitol doesn't let children own property. After mom dies, we can't keep the house. Where would we go?"

It was an unspoken fact between us that our only real option would be the community home. It was a terrible place where children grew hungry, sick, and were generally neglected. If I was alone in the world, I knew myself to be prideful enough to turn this woman's offer down and allow myself to suffer in silence. But with Prim under my care, what real options did I have?

By the end of the week, we were officially living with our grandmother. Mother was still alive, but extremely ill, it was only a matter of time. She had caught something earlier that month and her body had deteriorated significantly. She vomited frequently, hallucinated, and her fever was impossible to bring down. We had tried everything we knew of but both of us knew she would need Capitol medicine to get off her bed.

For the first few days I was extremely alert around my grandmother. She was a soft-spoken woman, with kind blue eyes and shrunken stature. Her hair was thin and blond, just like mothers and Prims. Her face was wrinkled, both near the corners of her lips and underneath her eyes. Her frown lines were deep and pronounced. She was openly loving towards both Prim and myself which threw me off at first, as I expected her to be as prejudiced as any other old merchant.

One night, she came into the room she had given Prim and I to share. She sat on the end of the bed, her wrinkled hands folded in her lap and asked if she could speak with us, openly.

Prim said nothing, I nodded.

"I know that both of you don't trust me yet." She paused here, I continued to stare at her defiantly as Prim stared down at the quilt and picked at its stitches.

"I will admit to not being happy with your mother when she ran off to be with your father. I felt betrayed and abandoned by her… It had never been about your father with me, not really. It was just easy to blame him because I didn't know him. I was petty, bitter, and foolish."

At this point she reached over to touch both our hands, Prim, ever accepting and kind was quick to hold hers. I was more reserved and allowed her to lie her hand over mine, but I did not take hers in return.

"Your grandfather on the other hand…" she sighed and closed her eyes for a second. "He—he was a difficult man. He wasn't unkind, or evil, or anything like that. But he was stubborn. Once he decided something, he wasn't ever going to change his mind. And his mind was mighty made up on hating that man."

We were all silent. Grandmother smiled softly at both of us and brushed a hair away from my face. "You look just like him, did you know? Your skin is much darker, just like your pa, but this nose, these eyes, you're a Lightwood alright."

She leaned back and smiled. I thought it looked like she might cry any minute. "Now, it's getting late. Both of you ladies should get to dreaming, alright?"

Every day after grandmother's confession it grew a little harder to dislike her. I watched her cheerfully teaching Prim the family apothecary trade after class, she listened to all of Prims tall tales, she bought us new clothes. She cried at mother's bedside daily until she passed, and she continued to do so even afterwards for years.

On the day we buried mother I didn't think I had it in me to cry. Intellectually I knew the day was coming, I even knew that I had to be there both emotionally and mentally for Prim, but what I didn't expect was the amount of pain I could feel for a woman I was certain I hated.

It was an unseasonably warm day when our mother failed to wake up. The sound of our grandmother's grief woke both Prim and I early that day. We had been sleeping with the window open and for some reason my first instinct was to assume that there must have been a stray cat weeping in the alley outside the window.

Prim burst out of the room before anything registered properly in my mind. I followed her, running down the hall barefoot. My heart was beating loudly and quickly in my ears. My hands were damp with sudden sweat. The only sound in the house was my grandmothers agonised voice as she cried out for my mother.

"My baby, my baby, my baby" grandmother seemed to be stuck in a loop as she held mother close to her breast and sobbed. Prim was there, I was certain, but I couldn't see much of anything as I was hit with such an intense amount of grief that it brought me to tears.

Everything was a blur that day and I couldn't recount the events properly afterwards at all. All I remember is the feeling of the oppressive humidity, and grandmothers black blouse scratching against my left cheek, where she held me snuggly, hiding my tears from anyone who might have seen them. The three of us stood together to watch the cemetery men bury my mother. A united front.

At the beginning, I found it hard to assimilate to life in town. Grandmother wanted to teach Prim and I everything about the family trade, insisting that it was infinitely better for the district to have two healers instead of one once confronted with my insistence on reserving training solely for Prim. I was used to hunting which seemed to be wildly different from everything we did at the shop.

Medicines were a nightmare to formulate at first. Everything required such precision, even to the minute detail. I considered myself capable of patience, I could lie in trenches forever if it bought me a sizeable haul. But this? Healing made me feel useless.

The townspeople seemed to always be looking at me wherever I went. Always talking in hushed voices behind cupped palms. My mother, my father, my grandmother, and my sisters' names curled around their lips. The mere sight of my neighbours brought me red hot anger and a boiling frustration on the worst days.

I hunted, as often as I could. The forest was the only thing that remained unchanged in my life and grandmother didn't mind it when I brought home fresh game if my 'excursions' didn't cut into my training.

My continued illegal profession did not buy me any admirers, which was alright. I still held on to my usual trading partners if I ever needed to trade.

The baker's wife took every opportunity to scoff at me openly, be it on the street or in her shop. Prim found all of this highly offensive, but her obvious dislike for me only encouraged me further, as she seemed to be the only person willing to recognize me as Seam.

One day, perhaps a month into our new living arrangement, I stopped by the back of the bakery for a trade. I knew I could come by the front of the shop; I had enough coins in my possession to purchase a loaf of bread, but I needed to feel like myself. The Katniss who had a family, lived in the Seam, and traded meat for bread.

The baker's wife opened the door, and to say the venom in her eyes upon the sight of me was noticeable would be a dramatic understatement. She spared me no words and called for one of her sons, with a sharp command, "Peeta!"

She turned away from me immediately and disappeared behind the swinging doors that lead to the front of the shop. The anger displayed by how harshly the door swung only brought me satisfaction.

My eyes landed on a blond boy, slightly taller than me whom I knew from school. His name was Peeta Mellark, the baker's youngest son. We were both fourteen, and I sat a few rows away from him at school, as I had done for our entire lives.

But most importantly, Peeta was the boy who tossed me burnt bread when Prim, mother and I had been starving three years before.

He met my gaze briefly, the rich blue of his eyes drifting towards my hunting bag and flitting across my face quickly.

"The usual?" he asked me somewhat flatly with a nod in my general direction.

I nodded as well. Fumbling with the straps of my hunting bag just a moment long enough to be embarrassed. I managed to yank the flap of the bag open and allowed him to peer inside.

"Squirrels. Four." I cleared my throat. My mouth felt dry, but my hands were damp. "Your father usually trades the plain loafs in exchange."

He was silent as he completed his end of the deal. He put the bread inside a single brown paper bag and accepted the squirrels from me as I passed them to him by the tails.

Both of us lingered uselessly without really looking at each other. I'd taken a deep breath, mumbled a short "bye" and was pivoting my feet towards where I came when Peeta's words stopped me more effectively than any physical restraint could of.

"Wait!" he called after me a little too loudly. He lowered his voice immediately. "I'm sorry about my mother, it wasn't right. You've been trading with us for a while, and I wouldn't want you to fee-"

"It's fine." I instantly regretted cutting him off. We were facing each other once more.

"It's not." He looked at me, but he was still avoiding any extended eye contact. "My father would hate to lose your business."

"You won't." I shook my head, "he won't."

I turned to leave once more.

"Katniss?" This time his voice didn't raise at all, but it still stopped me immediately. "I—that's not. I meant to say—I'm sorry about your mom. And your dad. And just everything."

This time I looked at him harshly, scrutinizing "Thank you for your well wishes."

"I wanted you to know… I'm here if you need a friend." Suddenly he squared his shoulders and really met my eyes. "Truly. I'm sorry I didn't really say anything before."

"It's not your responsibility." I nodded and stepped back. "I really have to go."

He didn't try to stop me that time.

The next day at school Peeta was sitting in the row of desks directly to my left. Right beside me.

"Hey," he said upon the sight of me.

I nodded in acknowledgement but did not say anything.

The day after that Peeta waved at me as I passed by the front of the bakery on the way home.

I waved back. I thought it would be rude not to.

When Prim noticed she waved at him much more enthusiastically.

The next day was a weekend, so I traded at the bakery early and Gale came along, but Peeta wasn't in the kitchen.

It wasn't anything worth noting.

When the school week started again Peeta was still sitting in the desk to my left. I briefly wondered where the person who sat there before was sitting.

Peeta greeted me once more and I did the same in return. We were silent as I settled into my desk.

"Your hair looks nice today," Peeta whispered simply, honestly.

I tugged on the end of my braid. Prim had braided it that morning in a style slightly different than my usual.

"Thank you," I whispered in return suddenly embarrassed that he had noticed at all.

He reached down to pull out a notebook from his bag, "Did you finish the assignment for today?"

My eyes flashed over to catch sight of his friendly open face, surprised he was still trying for this conversation. "Hardly. I've never been good at this class."

He smiled easily, "The history of the country is very dull, can't say I blame you." He pushed the notebook towards me, "here, fill in whatever blanks you have."

I smiled at him with some apprehension, "You don't have to. It's fine"

He shrugged easily and took the notebook back.

I continued to look at him as he flipped towards a blank page on his notebook.

I shook my head and faced the front.

He's been one of my closest friends ever since.

When I turned sixteen, I didn't think about what the birthday could possibly mean other than another ballot in the Hunger Games and a piece of cake from my grandmother and Prim.

My birthday comes in May, just one month away from summertime vacation and the beginning of the next Hunger Games. It would have been a crucial time if I was any other merchant girl, but I wasn't, therefore I didn't see it coming when on my way to leave the house for school grandmother called me into the kitchen for a serious talk.

When I entered the room, she was already sitting at our kitchen table. It was a small round wooden thing. Sturdy and solid, its surface scratched from the years of use. Her choice to sit there to have what appeared to be a serious conversation stood out to me as bizarre, somehow. I quickly became worried once she asked me to take a seat.

"Is something wrong? Is it your health?" were the first words out of my mouth. I dropped my bag on the ground and joined her, I was eternally worried about her now that she was honestly the only family Prim and I had left.

"No, I'm fine." She smiled at me gently and took my hands in hers. "I'm sure you're aware of what turning sixteen means here in town."

I frowned, I knew the answer but decided not to say anything just in case I was wrong.

When I didn't immediately speak grandmother started to look worried. "At sixteen, it is important to begin marriage arrangements for the eldest children in the household, to ensure everything is in place before the eighteenth birthday."

"But I don't want to get married." I protested.

Grandmother looked as if this entire conversation was making her extremely unhappy. "Prim is much younger than you. I'm growing a bit older every day. It is in the interest of maintaining both of you secure that we start looking for an arrangement. Unmarried women cannot own property in the Districts unless they're widowed, you know that."

I swallowed; my throat suddenly felt much smaller than what it was a minute ago. She was right of course. Even if she lived a long life, as she will, I cannot remain unmarried. I won't have the same rights and benefits as a man does until I marry someone. I could attempt to wait until Prim is married to live under her protection, but I could never do that to her. I couldn't become her burden.

"Do you have someone in mind?" I asked, resigning myself to this reality already.

"Mr. Mellark has requested your hand for his youngest. Your friend, Peeta." Grandmother leaned forward to drop a kiss on my fingers, "I think that would be your best match. There have been other requests, but I think this one is the best option."

My eyes widened significantly. Ever since moving to town I had steadily grown friendly with Peeta Mellark, to the point where I considered him one of my closest friends. Theoretically it made sense for his father to make a match out of us, especially since we were already close, and I would be inheriting part of my family's business. But to me it was... I simply... I had never thought of him that way.

His family were our neighbours. I often saw him when we both took out the trash, or when he fed the pigs. Could I really marry someone, anyone? Let alone someone who was such a mundane part of my life?

"Does Peeta know about this?"

Grandmother shook her head "I don't know. I wanted to tell you now to give you the opportunity to ask him yourself at school today."

I nodded and stood. Wishing her a good day I made my way for the back door.

"Just for the record Katniss, there are other options too, I don't want you to feel obligated to marry him just because I mentioned him first."

I shook my head, "honestly, there aren't many people I would consider marrying at all. But on that very short list, you will find Peeta's name."

I walked Prim to school that day in a daze. My thoughts were wild, and Prim didn't bother to try to pull me out of them. She knew me well enough to understand that she wouldn't succeed while I was in that state. She ran off to her class as soon as it was within view, waving goodbye to me as she went.

How was I supposed to react to this new challenge? It was clear that I would have to marry someone now. I didn't have a house of my own anymore, which had been integral to my life plan. I was supposed to live in my father's house. Hunt for food and trade for all my basic needs. I wasn't supposed to get married and inevitably have children. I couldn't allow it.

But what choice did I have? I needed to think about Prim's future. If I were settled in a good marriage, which I knew was what I would be getting if I married Peeta, I could take care of her for as long as she was willing to be cared for. Peeta wouldn't mind sharing a living space with her if necessary.

It wouldn't be too much of a sacrifice either. I already knew everything about Peeta. He was a good friend, and we understood each other. The only problem would be the unavoidable question of offspring, and this was the only thing I couldn't really accept.

Why couldn't I simply live on my own? It would be perfect, simple even. But the only way I could achieve that life would be outside of Panem, and there is nothing outside of Panem.

For the first hour I went through the motions at school, already thinking about what I would say to Peeta once second period came and with it our shared desk station.

I nearly worried myself sick. I was the first person in the classroom once it was emptied by the last class. I was nervous, my eyes wouldn't focus on anything but the classroom door.

When Peeta finally entered he pulled a funny face at me when I stared at him all the way to our desk. He tucked his bag underneath the desk and shrugged off his jacket. Allowing it to lie partially underneath him and across the back of the chair.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his smile uneasy.

"Your father asked my grandmother for my hand in marriage, for you." I swallowed, "for our marriage. You and I married. Like a marriage."

He blinked. Suddenly he seemed uncomfortable. "Oh."

"Yeah, he wants us to, you know, get married to each other." I couldn't stop talking. "To each other, you and me."

Peeta put his hands on his lap and stared at his desk, "Oh, wow. Wow."

"Yeah" I said. We were quiet. More students walked into the room; Mr. Fletcher shuffled in carrying what looked like our essays on the Districts economy: A.K.A. coal.

"Unless you don't want to," I whispered. I was staring at his profile as he refused to face me. I hadn't considered the possibility of Peeta not wanting to marry me. Who would I have to marry then? There was no one else I could even picture at that moment.

Mr. Fletcher began to walk across the room handing our essays back.

"No, it's not that." Peeta said quickly. "Do you? Want to get married to each other, I mean."

"I've decided that if you accept, I will tell my grandmother to accept your fathers request."

"But do you want to? To me?" Peeta turned to face me, his expression the most guarded I had ever seen.

I nodded, "yes, I do."

Peeta began to speak, his eyes filled with an unfamiliar emotion.

"Mellark," Mr. Fletcher dropped Peeta's essay on the desk, "Everdeen," he dropped mine on top of his.

Peeta waited until the older man was further away before he started speaking again. "No Katniss, are you sure?"

I nodded, "I am." I reached over and took Peeta's hand in mine, his dark blue eyes flashed up to lock with mine, "you're my best friend. Why would I marry anyone else?"

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Mr. Fletcher began his lecture, he was notorious for not tolerating chatting in the classroom so we both turned forwards to -at least in my case- look like we were paying attention.

I was staring absently at Mr. Fletchers receding hairline, my stomach fluttering uneasily as the whole concept of our marriage still sat uncomfortably with me, when Peeta poked my arm with the eraser end of his pencil.

I cut my eyes towards him; he tilted his head downwards towards his notebook. On it I saw that he had scribbled something for me in his fluid handwriting:

'Friendship is one thing marriage is another.'

I frowned. Something in my chest dropped and I suddenly felt like he was rejecting me. I wrote him a response in my stilted handwriting:

'It's alright if you don't want to. You probably have someone else in mind.'

He wrote his next message so quickly that I knew I must have offended him somehow:

'No. Of course not. I'll marry you Katniss if you want. But what if you resent me?'

I dropped my pencil and stared at him. I shook my head, but he didn't look convinced. We were distracted enough that Mr. Fletcher walked right up to us and scooped the notebook out from under our fingers.

"Whatever it is you're writing about you should be able to share with the rest of the class." Our teacher said as he looked down at the notebook and began to read aloud what we had written.

Peeta set his jaw as he stared at our teacher angrily, I withered with embarrassment under my classmate's stares. Peeta took my hand and squeezed me.

"Now," Mr. Fletcher put down the notebook on the desk after he was done reading, "go to the office for disturbing the class."

Peeta scooped up both our notebooks and his bag in an instant pulling me along by the hand. His dark mood was so evident and surprising that I almost left my book bag behind.

He walked us in the direction of the principal's office as we knew that the fines the school issued for disobeying orders to go to the office were an unnecessary expense our families did not need.

We were walking at a brisk pace, at which I was struggling to keep up with him since his legs were so much longer than mine when he started talking quickly.

"I don't want to marry you if you're going to be angry with me over it. My parents have that already and I do not want that with you. I don't want that for you, and I don't want that for me. If we do this, we both must agree to try."

"I know. I will," I stopped walking and pulled him to a stop next to me. Peeta seemed to be avoiding my eyes and was instead staring at my forehead. I cupped his face and brought him down to look at me, "hey, it's me. I promise. I'll be there."

Peeta's deeply blue eyes bore into mine, locking me in place "and you won't run from me?"

I tried to shake my head and ended up bumping my nose painfully with his. He smiled, "I'll stay."

Peeta swallowed and nodded. "Alright, let's go." He took my hand and we walked to the office.

The arrangements for our marriage began almost immediately after I told my grandmother to accept the bakers request for my hand. Prim seemed happy for us when I told her that afternoon, even asking about whether or not there would be wedding cake.

A few nights after the decision had been made Peeta sat next me at the back of the apothecary shop, watching me as I ground some seeds together in one of our large mortars. Both the bakery and the apothecary were closed for the evening.

"What did Gale think when you told him?" Peeta asked, "that is, of course, assuming you've told him."

I paused for a second but continued my task, unhappy with Peeta's continued ability to read me like a billboard, "I haven't."

"Hmm," He leaned back and stretched before picking up one of the handmade books on medicinal plants on the shelf in front of him. He flipped through it quietly, and if I didn't know him as well as I did, I would think he was letting the whole conversation go.

"I will, soon."

He continued looking at the book.

I sighed and stepped away from what I was doing. Leaning against the table we were both next to I said, "Gale and I aren't getting married, Peeta."

He put the book down and turned to face me "Why not? He's your oldest friend. You could marry him; it would be the same as marrying me."

I shook my head. I wasn't sure why it was different, but it just was. I was willing to marry Peeta, but I wasn't willing to marry Gale.

"It's different. I already told you."

"Are you sure? You won't regret this?"

I paused and looked at him. "If I tell you something ridiculously embarrassing, will we never speak of it again?"

He blinked in surprise but nodded quickly.

"I-I…" I looked at him, my cheeks burning with shame. "Don't laugh at me," I warned.

Peeta shook his head, "I won't."

I nodded and tried again, this time I pulled on my fingers just to do something, "I'm not physically attracted to Gale. But I am, with, uh, with- "

It was dead silent for at least two minutes

"With me, you're 'physically attracted' to me?" Peeta looked at me with an expression that spoke of pure disbelief, "You've thought about me like that?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm not a pervert, I just- I just know."

Peeta gaped at me, "Whoa. I mean, that's good. I—if it makes you feel any better, the feeling is 100% mutual, just so you know."

I shook my head with a laugh and went back to my work. Grandmother wanted me to practice making complicated medicines more often. "You're just saying that."

"No! I'm really not." He smiled at me with the expression of a man who'd just discovered something wonderful. I looked away since he was making me blush and that was just ridiculous. "If I tell you something would you promise not to laugh?"

I lifted an eyebrow and looked over at him, "Hmm, maybe."

He grinned and went on. "I've sort of had a bit of a crush on you for a while."

As he said the words, I had been reaching for one of the glass containers scattered around me. I knocked everything near my arm down at his confession.

"W-what? You? On me? Why?" I turned my neck towards him and kept turning my whole body as he stood and walked around me to pick up everything I'd scattered around the table.

He shrugged one shoulder and shot me a shy smile, "Oh you know, just 'cause."

"How long?" I asked.

"Oh, a while." He kept moving around. He started wiping the table.

"How long is a while?" I asked, I could feel my heartbeat everywhere.

"Ever since I first saw you," he smiled at me and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "Listen, I have to get back home, okay?"

I stood dumbly as I watched him duck out the back door, "Wait, how long ago was that?" I shouted into the empty room, the goodbye kiss he dropped burning on my forehead.

The Mellarks invited us over to dinner the next night, Mr. Mellark himself had come by briefly to invite us that morning. It was a weekend, so we didn't go to school that day. I hadn't seen Peeta all day as we had both been busy working at our respective family businesses.

I was out back, kicking out Prim's cat for what felt like the hundredth time, killing time until dinner. I refused to feed it, so I regularly kicked it out to encourage it to hunt. I hated the damn creature, but Prim was still young enough that any pet of hers was really my responsibility.

"Hey, Catnip!" I looked up and grinned at Gale who was walking by the alley next to the apothecary, he was wearing his hunting clothes and bag.

"Hey Gale!" I waved him over, "you're going to trade with the Mellarks?"

"Yeah, but I've got some time to talk to you," he shifted his bag and hoped the low fence. He spotted Buttercup, "the beast still kickin'?"

"Yup," I said and glared down at the cat. "It won't die."

Gale smiled at me in a way that made it clear to me that he was laughing at me before starting to speak, "Listen, Ma wanted me to ask you if you could send Prim by the house soon to look at what's wrong with Rory."

"He's still got that cough?" I asked.

"Yeah, It's a real bitch. Kid can't sleep." He paused for a moment, "I'm really hoping it's nothing serious."

"It's probably nothing," I told him softly, "but come with me for a moment, maybe there's something you can take home that could help."

We entered the shop together, as I rifled through the pre-made medicine Gale started rejecting my offer.

"I'm not taking anything for free." He leaned against the counter, "so don't even offer to."

I looked over at him, "Then you'll pay me back tomorrow. Something you think makes up for it."

He grunted.

I was still looking, bent over and not paying attention when he spoke again.

"Now Catnip," he sounded far away, as if he were on the other side of the room. "Is there anything you've been meaning to tell me?" I bumped my head against the top of the counter on my way up.

"Anything at all?" he asked when I faced him.

"You know?" I put down the cough syrup angrily, "how?"

He started chuckling, "Katniss, everyone knows. This is District Twelve." He walked over to me and tossed the syrup in the air catching it easily. "You can find out when Cray's taking a shit if you want."

I rolled my eyes at his choice of words. Ever since Gale started working in the mines, he picked up a lot of the miner's slang and expressions. It was all gross.

"So," he said, "is this what you want do?" he took a step closer to me. "I thought you said you ain't ever getting married?"

I glared at him, "What's with the questions?"

"I thought you were too Seam to ever do anything the merchant way." He leaned back onto the island behind him "Guess you're sorta a sellout."

I gasped, "Gale Hawthorne-"

"It's true ain't it? Too good to slum it with a coal miner?"

I reached beside me and threw the closest thing at him. It turned out to be a wooden spoon that he ducked easily.

He chuckled again, "okay, so that ain't it. Good."

"You're so vulgar." I grabbed some sleep syrup and shoved it into his hands. "Get outta my face, I don't wanna to see you."

He rolled his eyes and followed me as I made my way across the room with the excuse of working. Where was Prim anyways?

"You're into the Mellark kid now? That's it?"

"I don't want to talk to you about this." I basically whined as I shouldered my way past him.

He stayed where he was and stared at me for a moment. I got goose bumps.

"Hmm," He grinned at me in a way that made it clear that he didn't think anything was funny. "I'll bring you something tomorrow. Willow bark?"

I stared at him, my gaze hard. I hated it when Gale judged me like this. There was something he wasn't telling me, probably something about how much he disapproved of me now. "Okay, that would be great. Thanks Gale."

"'Night, Catnip!" He called out, already out the door. He must have nudged Buttercup hard because I heard the cat yelp.

"'Night" I mumbled and shut the door.

Dinner at the Mellarks was just the same old interactions we'd already had in the past. I'd been over there for dinner before since Mr. Mellark liked me, for reasons unknown. Mrs. Mellark was annoyed by my presence as usual, Peeta was glad to see me, and his brothers were, as usual, annoying.

The only thing different that night was Peeta himself. He greeted my family and I at the door. Almost as if he'd been waiting there the whole time, which I wouldn't put past him if he was truly as happy as he appeared.

He even pulled Prims chair out for her; a sure-fire was to please the both of us, with one move.

Throughout diner Peeta sat next to me, and like the fourteen-year-old girl I had been when he first spoke to me, I felt my throat dry up while my hands grew damp with my sweat. Across from me, my grandmother was holding a pleasant enough conversation with Mrs. Mellark, mostly about her late mother, Peeta's grandmother, who allegedly had been 'as sweet as pie.'

Peeta was in the middle of his own conversation with my sister, who sat across from him, while I stared at him trying to figure him out. What secret was he hiding from me? He was turning his face towards my own, probably to include me in the conversation, when his father interrupted all of us:

"Since both of you kids have agreed to the marriage, I would like to see you two married sometime this month. Surely before the Hunger Games start."

Everyone was silent. It was extremely unusual to get married before graduation, since you were still considered a potential tribute. Agreements were always made before school ended, but nobody toasted at any age younger than seventeen. Only the families with the most important businesses in town married before the yearly Hunger Games, to lock down business ownership.

Was Mr. Mellark doing all of this just to get his hands on the apothecary's earnings?

Peeta and I both shot each other a bewildered expression but Peeta was the only one who spoke:

"Dad, don't you think it's a little early? Maybe even a little rushed?"

"No," Mr. Mellark shook his head. "I'm not getting any younger, or healthier. I want to see every one of my sons married properly now."

I could hear Peeta gulp as he leaned back in his chair. He looked over at me with a shrug, but he didn't look unhappy. I gave him a small smile.

"Okay," I agreed. I wasn't sure what Mr. Mellark was doing, or if he wanted to steal from the apothecary, regardless of how farfetched that sounded, I knew Peeta would be the one with the legal power over the apothecary, not his father. I knew I could trust Peeta with anything.

"When?" I asked.

"I really only need a week to prepare for a wedding," grandmother spoke up with a smile. My heart dropped to my feet. I even sensed Peeta's surprise next to me. "Katniss, I'll need you to go hunting, try to find enough meat for twenty people. Peeta, we'll require a cake. After we have that all we really need is the firewood."

Peeta looked over at me, so did everyone else at the table. I leaned back in my seat and nodded. Mr. Mellark smiled.

"Alright. A week from today we'll have a wedding."

On the day of my wedding, Prim woke up early and came to my bedside to speak to me.

"Today is the last day we'll wake up in the same room together." She gave me a little bittersweet twist of her pink lips, barely a smile. "I want to spend the day with you, before I give you away."

My heart fractured slightly as I took my sister in my arms and held her to my chest. "You could never give me away. I'll always be your sister, no matter what."

She squeezed me in return and her voice came from a muffled place against my breast, "Promise?"

"I swear it," I leaned down to rain kisses on her golden head. I could feel her laughing against my heart.

Tossing herself backwards on my messy bed Prim looked up towards the ceiling and sighed, "why must we grow up? Why do we have to be given to men?"

I sighed and took my sisters hands. "I don't know," I told her honestly.

We were married under the light of a setting sun that came streaming through the coal crusted windows in the Justice building. Peeta and I both signed our names on the legal document with the same pen, both our hands were slightly shaky.

"You're married. Congratulations." the clerk said simply with a very business-like tone. Peeta and I seemed to be of equal nervousness. We bumped into each other, most embarrassingly, as we turned to face our families who had come with us to witness the signing.

"Oh, I'm sorry" I mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Peeta mumbled as well as he awkwardly righted my flower crown.

Peeta's brothers burst into loud uncontrollable laughter, "Kiss your wife already, you pussy!"

Somewhere in the back I head Prim giggle, Mrs. Mellark and my grandmother reprimanded my brothers-in-law, and Mr. Mellark let out a badly disguised cough of laughter. But none of these things mattered to me, because my husband leaned down and kissed me.

It was fast, and he hurt my nose with his, and I honestly don't think we did it right because I'm pretty sure his brothers started to laugh louder but-

It was my first kiss.

It was quite possibly the most bizarre night of my life.

Our neighbors stood outside the apothecary to sing the marriage song. We had to be reminded by Peeta's middle brother, Rye, that Peeta was supposed to carry me over the threshold. While I glowed with my embarrassment at being watched by so many people, Peeta glowed with a combination of happiness and teenage self-consciousness. Grandmother said we made quite the striking pair with our matching blushes.

We toasted in front of the shop's fireplace, as it was the largest room in the house, as well as the only fireplace with a stone bench in front of it, which had been built with cooking in mind.

Peeta and I seemed to be unable to stop sharing these small, bewildered laughs every time we did any part of the marriage tradition together, there, in front of everyone we'd ever known. It was almost as if we couldn't believe this was happening to us simultaneously.

Mr. Mellark, who might have been slightly drunk, shouted in an overjoyed fashion once Peeta and I fed each other bread. He then turned towards Rory and told him to start playing the fiddle already. Once again, Peeta and I laughed in disbelief.

It was a good party. I danced with Peeta, Prim, Grandmother, and even Gale was persuaded to share a short dance with me. I almost forgot that we were all there for my wedding, until near the very end of the night when our guests started to call out in unison for Peeta to kiss his bride and seal the deal for the night.

We shared a press of the lips very briefly, and it was better than the first since my nose came out of it unharmed, but the crowd wasn't done with us yet.

"A marriage is sealed in the marriage bed!" someone, a very drunk someone, shouted, and everyone shared a laugh. Peeta looked uncomfortable, but he tried to laugh it off. I stood beside him, unsure of how to take it.

Mrs. Mellark, surprisingly, calmed down the crowd, and told them they'd better leave us alone if they wanted us to make the marriage valid. She didn't want anyone contesting the union of our shops, I'm sure.

Peeta's hand squeezed my own as everyone began to file out. We shared another look.

We were both kissed on our cheeks by all the well-wishers, then we were kissed by our families, and then, finally, we were alone.

I sighed and walked away from Peeta's side. I made sure the shop door was locked and I slowly started to pull the flowers out of my hair. I was trying to delay the inevitable, the moment when I would have to turn around and face him. Turn around and do my part.

"Katniss," I felt Peeta's hand land on my shoulder. Warm and heavy. I turned to face him. He smiled. "Come on, let's go to bed."

I nodded. We walked up the stairs.

He was very quiet. We sat together, in darkness, on the edge of my bed. Eventually, Peeta turned to me and said:

"Why do we have to get married and prove to everyone in the town that we've done what they've asked?"

It felt a lot like my talk with Prim that morning. I took his hands the same way I'd done with Prim and held them tight. "I don't know."

I saw him smile at me; my lips smiled back at him automatically.

My fingers reached out and softly pushed his hair off his face. His gaze met my own quickly, and I felt the weight of his eyes flash through me, like a lightning bolt.

"Come to bed. Everything will be easier in the morning."

We woke up in our wedding clothes, tucked into each other. My mother's dress was completely wrinkled and potentially stained with the rouge that we'd smeared on my lips and cheeks the day before. I felt bad about ruining it.

Peeta stirred with me, so I turned over to look at him in the morning light. He smiled a non-entirely conscious smile and leaned down to drop a strange wet kiss on my nose. Who knows which part of me he had been aiming for?

"We didn't finish the deal," Peeta spoke into his pillow, his eyes closed once again as if this wasn't a serious topic. "We could get in trouble.

I sighed, "I know. We should do that now. No one will come looking for us right now."

He shook his head. Now he looked asleep, "It doesn't feel right."

I nodded and then realized that he wasn't looking at me, "It doesn't."

He didn't say anything.

"We should." I said my hand on his chest, pushing him onto his back.

He only opened his left eye and nodded in agreement, "We should."

I stared at him, "You won't."

"No."

"I have a knife in the drawer." I confessed after a moment of silence.

"You're threatening me?" Peeta said around an amused smile, "I could be persuaded, without the knife."

"No, I'm not threatening you," I laughed, "I'll cut my finger and smear the sheets. I've heard that some girls do that."

"They'll be able to tell," Peeta murmured but stretched out in search of the knife. "All they'll have to do is look at you."

"Am I the picture of virginity? Am I too simple to lie?" I spoke in a mocking tone, but I was a little insulted.

"Not too simple, and not virginity." Peeta hissed as he cut a line across his own palm and tried to smear his blood on the sheets appropriately. "Purity. You're the image of purity."

I scoffed at him, but I didn't understand.

We received lots of gifts that day, mostly food. Unlike Peeta's prediction, it didn't seem that people were doubting us. The only person who seemed overly interested in checking our 'marital evidence,' was Mrs. Mellark who stood outside the apothecary grumbling up at my bedsheet from where it hung on the balcony.

We moved into the house assigned to us by the District and got all the work done very quickly due to our lack of belongings. The rushed way in which we moved in just added to the surreal feeling that had taken over me body.

Peeta smiled at me from where he lay on the ground, hands behind his head, in our living room. We didn't have any furniture yet, except the armchair that Grandma gave us, and the dining table and chairs Mr. Mellark had bought us, and the bed I brought over from Grandmas.

I smiled at him from my spot on the armchair and nudged him with my foot. "Are you happy?"

His face brightened. "I am." He looked at me, "are you?"

I nodded, "yes. But I could be happier."

"Oh?" He asked, seeing that I didn't appear to be angry.

"I would like to be kissed."

Peeta laughed at me, but he kissed me all the same.

In the days leading up to the Hunger Games Peeta and I found ourselves in a nice pattern. We still went to school because that was the law, we walked Prim to and from school, did some work in our respectful shops, and then came home again. It was barely any different than before, only now Peeta and I kissed sometimes and slept in the same bed, but we weren't different people. We were the same, but everything was different. People looked at us different, almost as if the simple truth of our marriage somehow made us into some sort of celebrity.

I hated it, and sometimes I wished that I had argued with Mr. Mellark and insisted on waiting until we turned eighteen to get married, but I realized it didn't really matter; they would always talk because I was Seam, and he was from town.

Nothing bothered Peeta. If anything, the added attention gave him the excuse to be openly happy about our new relationship. And as always when I was around him, I wished I could be more like him.

I was hunting with Gale one morning, glad to finally be away from the whispers about how terrible it was that the Mellarks loveliest son had married the trash of the town when Gale had to turn around and drag that up in my safe heaven.

"So, why haven't you been sleeping with your husband?" the fact that he spoke so seriously, without any of his usual vulgarities, was shocking on its own. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to appreciate it, as I was too busy being offended.

"How dare you ask me that, Gale!" I shouted, I stood up dropping everything in my arms and began stalking away.

"Hey! Don't you think that you need your bow?" I stopped in my tracks. I turned around and collected my father's bow. Without a pause, I turned around and began to stalk away all over again.

"Catnip!" Gale shouted after me, "It ain't a secret!"

I stopped again. "They know?"

"You know that this is D. Twelve!" Gale laughed, "c'mon, are you a lesbian or something?"

I turned around to glare at him and he raised his hands in surrender, "I can't talk about this with you."

"Why not? I tell you about mine, I wanna know yours!"

"I don't wanna know about yours!" I cried out, "it's gross, stop telling me that stuff."

Gale shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows. I scoffed.

"He ain't enough for you, right?" He grasped my chin, "Doesn't make you feel hot?"

"Ew, get away from me!" I shoved him and Gale burst out laughing as he tumbled to the ground. "It's none of your business!"

"I wanna know!"

I rolled my eyes and started to walk away, but Gale wouldn't give up.

"Y'know, if you don't get that shit done fast, somebody else might start to get interested in fixing that for you."

I stopped for a second, stumbled really, then I ran back home.

Peeta wasn't home when I got there as it was still early. I didn't want to see anyone, least of all him, so I stayed home trapped with my thoughts.

I don't know why everything felt like a test that I could either pass or fail. I didn't even want to be married, not really. But I was, and I had promised Peeta to at least try to be his wife, but we hadn't talked about it since. I didn't even know what he meant by that. How do you try to be a wife? Did I need to start asking about his day and try to make dinner?

Grandmother would be expecting me to come into work soon and I wasn't selfish enough to hide in my bed. I changed my clothes hastily, and marched out the door, already dreading the time when I would inevitably return.

There you have it! First chapter down. Please don't forget to review as I feel like they're the only reason I write.

I'm on tumblr as waywardangel-wilds if you want to hang out or write together!