"Stars shinning bright above you…" I watched the broom distractedly as I swept away some of the coal dust that gathered out front of the shop. Nobody was close enough to hear, so I didn't mind singing softly to myself.

"Night breezes seem to whisper…" Prim continued the song gently from behind me, I turned to smile at her, but she couldn't really see me as she was washing the shop windows.

"I love you." I finished, reaching over to poke her side playfully as she giggled.

"Will you be heading home, now?" Prim asked with a smile, turning her face towards me. Once the windows were cleaned our closing tasks would be finished for the day, so really, nothing was keeping me from leaving.

"I don't mind staying to help for a little while," I said, nonchalantly, and pulled out a soapy rag from the bucket at Prim's feet. "I can wipe these down and you can finish them."

"Oh, I can do that," Prim dismissed with a shake of her head. "I'm twelve you know; you don't have to worry about me. I can do it."

"That doesn't mean I can't help you to be nice." I squeezed out the excess water from the rag and smirked at her. "I'm starting with this window."

We worked in silence for a bit. Occasionally I heard the crunch of footsteps as people walked across the square. Technically, District Twelve had a 9:00 o'clock curfew, but the Peacekeepers rarely enforced it as most people were already home by then. According to the shops clock, we were twenty minutes shy from 9, I was running out of legitimate excuses to stay.

Over to the right of us I heard the jingle of the bakery's front door, the bell above the doorframe ringing as Peeta stepped out. I glanced in his direction and felt the blood flee from my face. Prim looked in his direction as well and waved him over.

"Hey, Peeta!" She greeted cheerfully, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Hey, Prim how're you doing?" He hopped off the shops stoop and walked over to hug my little sister. He looked at me over her shoulder.

"Hey! What are you still doing here?" He smiled at me easily, walking over to my side. "Do you want to walk back home with me?"

"Uh," I looked over at Prim, but she obviously had no idea what was wrong with me and was no help. I squeezed the rag between my fingers, "uh sure! Sorry, Prim, I—"

"Good night, Katniss. I'll see you tomorrow." Prim dismissed me, already finishing off the window I had helped with.

Peeta reached for my hand, and I hastily dropped the rag in the bucket. He pulled me along for a bit, waiting until he was out of Prims earshot before he spoke again. "What's wrong?"

Again, his continued ability to read me sucked.

"Nothings wrong," I shook my head and even tried to smile at him. "Just a long day."

Peeta frowned at me and turned to look at the road ahead of us, "you know that thing you said at school, about not running?"

I sighed. Got me. "Okay so there is something."

"Oh really?" He smiled down at me, but he wasn't trying to be overly mocking, "do tell."

"We haven't… done it yet" I tried to avoid Peeta's eyes, but it was such an awkward thing to say that, even to a close friend, that I ended up gaping at him helplessly.

"Okay" he looked at me with confusion. "So what? That's fine by me."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. "Is it really? 'Cause Gale said-"

"Ah," Peeta interrupted with a knowing look. "Now I get it. Don't listen to him. Actually, don't talk to him about this at all, okay?"

I scoffed, "it's not like I told him anything. I don't even want to talk about it. But he said something that made sense."

"What did he say?" Peeta looked away to unlock the front door of our house, "let me guess 'everybody knows Cattail.'" He lowered his voice comically and made an annoyed face.

"It's catnip." I corrected kicking off my boots and following him into the kitchen. "And it wasn't just that."

"But he did say that?" He looked up and met my gaze, pulling out a small loaf of bread from the small white paper bag he'd carried with him from the bakery. "Don't listen to him, he's just messing with you. Trying to get in your head."

"You're not listening," I groaned, for some reason wanting to talk about it now. I pulled out a dining chair and sat down. "He said something about you."

"Um," Peeta turned to look at me with a confused face, hand inside the icebox. "What did he say? He barely knows me."

"He said that if I didn't get this done that there could be another girl or something," I messed with the top of the table feeling stupid. "And I don't want that so." I shrugged.

"Two things," Peeta started pulling out a covered dish with some stew we got from one of our neighbours as a wedding gift. "Did he actually say that? And two, that's the craziest thing I've ever head. I'm not going to ditch you. We just got married."

"Well…" I trailed off watching him put the dish down on the stove and turn the burner on. "He said someone was going to want to take care of that, if I didn't do something. And it's not crazy."

Peeta sighed, laughing lightly as he shook his head. "Katniss, you've got to be the most innocent person I've ever met." He glanced at me with an honest smile that I found comforting enough to not become offended immediately. "Katniss, he was hitting on you. Probably in a gross way that was completely inappropriate, but he was trying to hit on you. Either that or he was threatening you, but I think you'd see a threat coming."

I blinked at him, taken aback. "No, that doesn't … oh god, ew."

Peeta tossed his head back and laughed, "you're so pure. It's a little adorable, but mostly hilarious."

I dropped my face into my hands and groaned, "but, I'm still worried about the other thing."

"Katniss," Peeta paused for me to look at him. "I like you and I think you like me. There's no pressure, you don't have to do anything. We can do that when the times right, which it doesn't seem to be now and that's okay."

"Of course, I like you," I sighed. "I just don't know how to be married. I didn't even want to get married at all."

"I know," he stirred our food with a spoon. "Good thing we make the rules, huh?"

I grunted, still unconvinced, and dropped my head back into my hands. "What do I do about Gale? I don't want him saying things to me."

"You could just tell him to stop?" I could feel him looking at me with a bewildered face. "It's what you did to Rooba's nephew."

The memory of Emory's bleeding nose flashed across my eyes, and I shook my head. "I don't want to punch him."

"Why not? I think it's a great idea," I looked at him as he smiled brightly and turned off the stove. "Could you do it in public? Maybe during the reaping?"

I laughed, "Peeta, don't be ridiculous."

He turned away to get our two bowls out of the cupboard, "I'm just the ideas man. You're the action woman. It's what makes us a good team."

I rolled my eyes. He's said this to me many times before.

"He's usually a very good friend, when he's not being an idiot." I defended, fiddling with my fingernails. Peeta nodded.

"Well, he better be, or else." I looked over at him and he flashed me a goofy smile. "I know you've known him longer, but I'm pretty protective of my friends, you know?"

I smiled, accepting the bowl and spoon he brought me. "I know."

"Cool. Eat, I'm jumping you later."

I laughed and kicked him under the table.

The next day Peeta didn't work at the bakery. He was expected to come into the apothecary with me. Since Peeta's oldest brother, Bannock, was inheriting the bakery, Peeta was expected to learn the apothecaries trade and eventually transition to it full time once Bannock and his wife started putting their own kids to work.

We were laying back in bed. Well, Peeta was. I was trying to go back to sleep, but since my husband was used to waking up at 4:30 in the morning he was having a hard time adjusting to my later hours. I groaned and kicked him, burying my face into my pillow.

"Just go back to sleep already," I groaned. It was so early; the morning sunlight wasn't even peaking through our window yet. "Or leave me alone. Let me sleep."

"I'm not doing anything!" Peeta complained slapping my hands away when I tried to shove him. "I'm just here."

"You're breathing so loud." I knew I was being irrational, but if he wasn't sleeping my body wanted to be awake too. An unfortunate side effect to us sleeping together.

"Okay, no worries, I'll just die then." He scoffed but sought me out under the sheets, cuddling into me. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"Ugh," I elbowed him but stayed spooning, I was too comfortable anyways. My eyes wandered, looking for something of interest. I studied Peeta's pale hand on my forearm. It was littered with old baking scars. I reached for his hand and picked it up, bringing it close to my face.

"What?" He grunted into my ear, his hot breath leaving a humid feeling behind.

"Shh," I corrected, studying the palm of his hand. His hand felt heavy and was larger than my own. I ran my fingertip over his nails. They were cut short and didn't feel sharp to the touch. I brought his hand closer to me and left a kiss on his palm, my lips getting scratched by the rough callous there.

"Hm," I could feel him smiling against my hair.

I took his hand and placed it in the centre of my chest, hugging it to myself. Peeta flexed his hand and pinched me.

"Ow!" I reached back and kicked him again, but he was laughing against the side of my head. "This is why nobody likes you."

"Everybody likes me," he drawled amusedly. "Nobody has a single bad thing to say about me, except maybe you."

I scoffed, trying to think of another biting remark when he used that same hand to turn me to face him. I looked at his face, amused despite myself by his bed hair and halfway smooshed face.

"What do you —" I was asking when he pulled me in for a kiss.

By then, we'd kissed me a thousand times already. But this? This was a different kiss. I didn't know kissing could involve so much tongue before. My eyebrows went skyward, trying to figure out how to move my own lips when he slowly rolled on top of me.

It felt nice. Warm and slippery. It seemed like he knew what he was doing which made me anxious about somehow ruining it. I didn't know what to do with my own lips or my hands. Slowly, one of Peeta's hands stroked my jaw. His fingers slowly ran down the length of my neck and came to rest low on my collarbone. My thoughts started to dissipate, almost as if I were getting drunk from it. I never knew being weighed down by another person could feel so good.

My heart was beating so intensely, I could feel it in my ears. With curious hands of my own, I reached up to comb my fingers through his hair, loving how soft and silky his wavy hair felt between my fingers.

He pulled away from me much too soon, leaving me breathing at an embarrassingly loud rate. I stared up at him, my eyes wide eyes and my lips puffy. He grinned down at me, his eyes twinkling.

"Good morning," he whispered, reaching down to lightly nip my nose. I blinked in surprise.

"Hi," I whispered back, my voice strange to my ears. My curious hands slid down towards his shoulders. "What was that for?"

"I just like you," he moved to lie down beside me again but this time his face was much closer, his nose nearly touching my own.

"I can't go back to sleep now," I whispered, listening to the blood rush past my ears.

"Oh, that's too bad," he said, but he was still smiling. His big warm hand ran over my belly just to tuck itself around my hip, leaving his warm arm to lay across my body and thrill me.

He held my hand on the way to work and I tried to behave normally but everything about him was suddenly fascinating. Everything, down to the blonde hair on his forearms was distracting me. He didn't seem interested in conversation, but occasionally, he looked at me with a cheeky smile.

The walk back to grandmothers wasn't long. We lived merely two streets away from the town square. I ran free hand down Peeta's forearm once we stepped into the square, my fingertips buzzing with pleasant electricity. I had been itching to feel the skin there. He glanced over at me, probably expecting me to say something, but I didn't. I looked past him and saw my mother-in-law sweeping up the front of the bakery.

"Good morning, Mrs. Mellark," I said politely. While I still found it fun to provoke the woman's anger, there was no reason for me to be rude, especially in front of her son.

The older woman looked over at me with a nod. "Katniss, Peeta."

"Morning," Peeta offered his mother a small smile, who despite their rocky relationship, looked at him with kinder eyes than she had for me.

"First day." She stopped sweeping and tilted her head as she considered us. "You'll be good to Mrs. Lightwood?"

"Of course, Mama." Peeta and I had come to a stop in front of her. She pursed her lips and nodded again.

"Well off you go, then" she combed back Peeta's hair lightly and gave his cheek a single pat. "Dinners at six tonight. Bring Primrose and Mrs. Lightwood."

Once we made it into my grandmother's shop, I let go of Peeta's hand. I was still distracted by the events of that morning and now also distracted by Mrs. Mellark's bizarre sentimentality. Peeta seemed to understand my confusion because he smiled at me and shrugged.

"She's not always mean," he said leaning against the shops front counter. "Sometimes she can be very caring. It's confusing."

I distracted myself by turning on the rooms oil lamps. He's defended her like this before, but I've never believed him. "I don't know how you deal with her."

"Only mom I've got. I'm used to it." He crossed his arms over his chest. Overtime it had become apparent to me that this kind of body language meant that I should stop asking him about his mother. I let it go.

"Prim?" I called into the back of the shop. "We're here."

The door to the back room opened but instead of my sister, my grandmother greeted us.

"Well, Peeta, are you ready for your first day?"

"These are beautiful, Mrs. Lightwood," Peeta said as he studied one of our family's plant books. "Who did this one?"

My grandmother looked over at the drawing he was looking at, putting down the tincture she'd been working on. "That one was drawn by my late husband, see here?" she pointed somewhere on the page. "R.L. Reuben Lightwood. Everyone in the family who contributes signs the page with their initials, there."

"He was very talented," Peeta praised. "This was all done in pen?"

Grandmother nodded, "with a very fine point too. We need to capture the details correctly."

"You could add to the book now too, Peeta" I said with a smile. "Grandma, did I tell you that Peeta is an artist?"

Peeta blushed, "I wouldn't say artist."

"Yes, dear, you actually have." Grandmother shook her head, "she's ridiculous. I don't think she notices how much she babbles about you."

"Really?" Peeta sat up straighter and met my gaze with a mischievous light.

"She's exaggerating," I walked towards the stove rolling my eyes.

"Ever since she was in the ninth grade, this one. 'Grandma, did you know Peeta Mellark, the neighbor boy, is on the wrestling team? Grandma, there's a wrestling tournament. Peeta, the neighbor boy, is very good at wrestling. Prim wants to go watch.'" Grandma made a tsking sound. "Little thing barely spoke at all, but she did have a lot to say about you."

"This is amazing information," Peeta encouraged, I scoffed.

"It's all fabricated," I said without turning away from the jar I was submerging in boiling water. "I would never say any of that."

"You know, last Harvest Fest, she would not stop talking about that pumpkin tart you made her? Basically, told us about each and every bite."

"That I can believe, no problem" Peeta said, laughing.

"Grandma," I complained. "He already has such a big head, don't encourage him."

"And the buns from New Years?" I turned to watch Grandmother playfully smack Peeta's shoulder in mock exasperation. "My goodness, what were in those? She drooled about them for days."

"Ugh," I groaned while Peeta laughed at my expense. Carefully I used the tongs to remove the jar.

"Katniss loves cheese," Peeta explained. "All I ever need to do to butter her up is melt some cheese."

Grandmother tsked again. "Silly, silly girl this one."

I was saved from further embarrassing stories by the knock on the back door. I sighed with relief. "That's Gale," I announced.

"Remember what we talked about, okay?" Peeta called after me from his spot at the opposite end of the room, I shot him a look that did nothing but make him smile.

I pulled the door open with a sigh, "Hey Gale, how are you?"

Gale looked towards me and smiled. "Oh, hey Catnip. I'm good."

"Rory?"

"He's good." He looked over my head and saw Peeta, "Hey Peeta."

"Gale," he called back. "How's your family?"

"Same old, same old." Gale replied. "And yours?"

"Well, you're looking at them, they look fine right?" I glanced back at my husband with a warning look, he met my eyes with an easy smile. "You're doing good, right Katniss?"

"Uh, what did you bring today, Gale?" I turned away from Peeta and looked Gale's way. "Did you bring that willow bark? You said you were going to get it for me, remember?"

"Right. No, I didn't get any today," Gale's grey eyes bounced between me and Peeta for a moment. "I got you some beewort."

"Great, I'll take that." I took a step back and turned around to find something worth trading. My eyes landed on Peeta, and I shot him a 'why would you say that?' look.

I dug around the shop until I found some low value herbal oil that was a fair trade and returned to the doorway.

"Will this be alright?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay, well, I'll see you around."

"'Kay, see ya."

I shut the door behind me and looked towards Peeta. Grandmother, sensing the changed mood, walked out the door leading to the front of the shop with a knowing look on her face.

"Why did you do that?" I complained as soon as the door shut behind my her.

"Because you won't say anything to him," Peeta moved forward to lean his elbows against the wooden table at the centre of the room. "He made you uncomfortable, that isn't okay. Someone needed to say something."

"But you did it all wrong," I sighed. "Now he thinks I'm mad at him, or worse, you're mad at him."

"No, now he knows that you told me what happened and he's going to be less forward with you." Peeta's eyes sought mine out, and I reluctantly made eye contact. "Gale's a pretty simple guy. If he thinks another guy is watching out for you, he'll step away, even more than he would if he thought you didn't have another guy in your life."

"That's so stupid," I strode towards the table to pick up where I'd left off. "Why would that matter? If I say I'm not interested, that is enough. Plus, I don't know if you forgot, but we just got married. I'm pretty sure that means I'm not seeking anything."

"Yeah," Peeta agreed, playing with the beewort on the table. "It would be enough; it should be enough for you to tell him to back off. Some guys are just pushy, Gale's one of them."

"You don't even know him," I dismissed looking down at what I was doing.

"I don't have to know him directly; you've told me enough about him that I do know him." He tossed a loose coriander seed my way. "But I'm sorry about taking your decision away, you're right."

I groaned. It was impossible to stay mad at him. "No, it's fine. Just don't do that again."

He nodded, "I won't."

"Prim, it's just dinner with Peeta's parents." I called up the stairs to the apartment, "can you please hurry up and get down here already?"

"I'm coming, just give me a second, okay?" Came Prims clipped response.

I rolled my eyes and settled down on the bottom step of the staircase. Peeta had left a while ago, at his father's call, to help set up. It was our first Sunday dinner as a family, so all the Mellarks would be there, including Peeta's cousins.

"I think she's sweet on Edel Lockberry," Grandmother whispered from where she stood by the backdoor. "Mind you, he's much too old for her."

I tried to remember what Edel, Peeta's twenty-two-year-old cousin, looked like and scoffed. My memory conjured up an image of a smirking dirty-blonde with his too-long hair held back in a ponytail. Ridiculous.

"Prim," I called up the stairs again. "We're leaving!" I stood up and huffed when Prim didn't come running down the steps. I walked towards the backdoor.

"I'm really leaving you here, Prim." I called out again. "If I leave without you, you can't come!"

"What, why?" Prim's footsteps sounded like pebbles falling down the stairs. She appeared at the foot of the stairs with slightly mused hair. She was wearing her nicest dress, a real merchant girls dress, complete with a bow at the waist. "They live next door!"

I walked over to her to adjust the ribbon holding up half of her hair. "It got you down the stairs, didn't it?"

She huffed but didn't respond further. Once my sister's hair was fixed, Grandmother regarded us for a 'final inspection.' Once she deemed us 'beautiful' we made our way out the back door.

I looked down at my shiny leather shoes as I pushed Buttercup away from the backdoor. The horrendous cat made a swipe towards my scrawny knees, but I hopped out of its reach. Ugh, what a beast.

"Katniss," Grandmother chided from the other side of our fence. "Leave the cat alone."

I glared at the cat once more for good measure before I walked past the fence. It was late afternoon, but the heat was cloying. I tugged on the collar of my dress, but it did little to alleviate the feeling.

Once at the Mellark's gate, I reached over to unlock the familiar latch and held the gate open for the rest of my family. The Mellark's pigs made noises at us as we walked past.

Over by the spigot, Peeta's brother Rye was scrubbing his hands. He glanced up towards us at the sound of the gate, a smile already on his face.

"If it isn't the Everdeens," he wiped his wet hands against his tan dress pants. "Looking good, Prim."

Prim blushed prettily and offered him a playful curtsey. "Thank you."

Rye reached towards me in that brotherly way of his to tug on my hair. I slapped his hand away. "What's this? Did you comb your hair? Gah! You look like a girl!"

I shoved him, barely moving him an inch as he laughed, "Your pants are covered in mud, making out with Betsy again?" I fired back.

Rye went to pull me into a headlock, but I easily avoided him and laughed. I oinked at him mockingly to remind him of his beloved, Betsy the pig. Grandmother chided us both, "Settle down now, kids."

Rye shoved my shoulder once rolling his eyes as he pulled open the back door to the bakery. I oinked at him again and shouldered my way past him. Mr. Mellark was in the kitchen with Bannock, talking, and looked up as we spilled into his kitchen.

His eyes returned to his eldest, unbothered. "Rye, leave your sister be." He said absentmindedly, jolting me momentarily with surprise. Sister.

I reached over to pinch Rye's side painfully causing him to yell in annoyance, and jogged up the stairs before he could get me.

"Peeta," I called breathlessly once I'd pulled open the door at the top of the stairs, but he was nowhere to be seen. The staircase led directly into the apartments living space. Typically, the room was dominated by a fairly worn brown couch and two blue-and-white stripped armchairs flanking the Capitol-issued projector. All that furniture had been pushed against the far wall, under the windows. In their place stood a long wooden dinning table, the one that usually stood near the wall on the right. Someone had extended the tables leaves and put out some extra chairs.

"In here!" Came Peeta's voice from behind the kitchen door on the left. I turned just in time to see him gently kick the door open with his foot. He stuck his head towards my line of sight, and I could see he was busy helping with the food.

"Hey," I slipped past the swinging door. Mrs. Mellark was next to him, watching his every move with a critical eye. She made a disapproving sound and yanked the spoon out of his hand.

"Mrs. Mellark," I acknowledged, and she waved her hand dismissively in my direction without bothering to look at me. She brought the spoon to her mouth and made a face.

"This is ruined," she said dropping the spoon back into the saucepan.

"It just needs more water," Peeta replied.

"It's too salty, you ruined it." She bit back and slapped the burner off. "This is why I'm always telling you—"

"Ma! Uncle Galve is here!" Rye shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Mrs. Mellark briefly closed her eyes. "Great. Peeta, go talk to your uncle."

"But–"

"Now," Mrs. Mellark physically turned her son and pushed him towards the door. "Out. Out."

We tumbled out the door. Peeta grabbed my elbow when I almost tripped on my own feet.

"She's just nervous," Peeta excused at the look on my face. "My nana is coming."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, she's a real nice lady the rest of the time." I mumbled.

"She's my mom," Peeta insisted but took my hand and tugged me back to the stairway door. "Let's say hi to my uncle."

I made a face behind his head but followed anyways. Mrs. Mellark, mother of the damn year.

"I like your dress," Peeta complimented at the door with a charming boyish smile. He held the door open for me. "Did you go home to change?"

Ugh, it is impossible to stay mad at him. "Grandma had it made. It just got delivered yesterday, belated birthday gift."

"You look beautiful," he reached over to touch my ruffled sleeve. "I like when you wear blue."

I rolled my eyes but stood on my toes to drop a kiss on his cheek. "You're terrible," I mumbled against his skin causing him to laugh.

"I do my best," he motioned for me to go first. I gave him a look but went down the stairs first.

"By the way, don't let my uncle hug you." Peeta warned in a quiet voice. "He gets handsy around girls sometimes."

We pushed through the downstairs door and into the bakery's kitchen. Peeta wrapped his arm around my shoulders in what I suspected to be a protective manner.

"I'm telling you, Bran." A large blonde man was saying. "It'll be good for business."

Peeta's father, Bran Mellark, shook his head. "I don't see how. Raising prices won't change anything. Money is tight."

"Three boys and their wives," the other man said. "That's a lot of family to watch out for."

The majority of the Mellark's and their relatives were gathered about the bakery's kitchen. I recognized Maggie and Elsie, Bannock and Rye's wives, from my wedding. Prim was sitting on a high stool, her legs swinging, talking to Edel Lockberry who stood next to her. Grandmother caught my eye from where she stood at Prims side and winked at me conspiratorially. Other than them, the collection of blondes around the kitchen were all strangers to me.

"Ah, Katniss! Nice to see my nephew's bride again." The blonde man from before said when he noticed us enter the room.

"This is my uncle Galve, he's mom's twin brother." Peeta explained to me.

"Galve Lockberry," the man grinned and shook my hand. "My children and I were at your wedding, but we weren't introduced." I nodded politely.

"Nice to meet you," I said with a smile, trying my best not to gape at him in shock.

"You can say it," Galve said with a laugh, noticing my expression. "Everyone does."

I glanced up at Peeta. "You look exactly alike," I leaned slightly away from him to see him better next to his uncle. "It's uncanny."

"Peeta takes after his mother," Galve slapped Peeta's shoulder affectionately. "So, of course, he takes after me."

It was a strange sight, Peeta Mellark at sixteen standing next to what could only be his mirror image at mid forty. I shook my head to clear it.

I was familiar with most of the youngest family members, as some of Peeta's cousins hung around him at school. Edel Lockberry's youngest brother Dug, was on the wrestling team. Peeta's aunt from his paternal side, Hallah, had three children. Her eldest daughter, Juniper, was part of Peeta's circle and frequently shared our table at lunch.

"I can get up the damn stairs, Hallah," a woman's voice said beyond the bakery's back door. Peeta's father rushed to open it.

"Mama, welcome." He reached down to embrace the smaller and older woman that stood on the back stoop. "Dattie is almost done with dinner."

"Dinner? Hmph. We'll see," Peeta's grandmother pushed his father aside and stepped into the room. She was gripping a simple cane in her right hand, her steps slightly shaky. She was possibly the oldest person I had ever seen. Her hair was completely white and braided up and around her head as was common for elderly merchant women. Although the true markers of her age were her face and back, as her face was deeply wrinkled and marked with age spots and her back was curved, almost humped.

"Where are my boys?" she asked, her eyes squinting. I realized that she must be nearly blind as her blue eyes were clouded with cataracts.

"We're here, nana." Bannock stepped forward to hug his grandmother, shooting his younger brothers a look each. "Here's Rye and Peeta."

Peeta stepped forward to hug his grandmother next. She reached up to feel his face and smiled. "Ah, Peeta. Where's your bride?"

"Oh, here's Katniss," Peeta reached out his arm in my direction. I stepped forward and took his hand. "Katniss, this is my grandmother."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Mellark." I said politely, looking down at her. She frowned at the sound of my voice and reached up to touch my face.

"Well, at least she's half merchant." She touched my loose hair. "Hopefully the children won't be too brown."

My eyes widened and I shot Peeta an offended look. His own face had soured as well. "Nana," he said in an upset yet respectful manner.

"Where's my Rye?" she turned away from us, her hands searching for the middle Mellark sibling. Rye stepped forward to hug his grandmother all the while looking at me in an apologetic manner.

"Oh, they'll definitely have black hair," Peeta's aunt, Hallah, said with distaste as she pulled the back door closed behind her. "Can you imagine it, Bran? Black-haired grandchildren."

"Beautiful, black-haired grandchildren." Mr. Mellark corrected dismissively. "Would you like to go upstairs now, Mama?"

"I'd like to sit down." The woman grumbled. "I don't care where you put me."

At that, the family waited as Mr. Mellark helped his mother up the stairs, following like a procession once they made it to the top. My own grandmother squeezed my shoulder, and I turned to catch her eye.

"Don't let her bother you, darling." Grandmother smiled at me apologetically. "She's just an old fool."

Peeta slung his arm around my hips this time, I turned to look at him as well. "I'm sorry about her."

I frowned and looked away.

Peeta's mother served pork for dinner. Rye had killed one of the pigs out back that morning, marking the evening as a special occasion. The ingredients themselves must have cost them a fortune as everything had been purchased from the shops in town. We were even having fresh rolls. I sat staring at my food, forcing myself to eat each bite. I didn't want to lash out and say something I'd only regret later.

Peeta placed his hand on leg, near my knee. I looked up at him and he smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but I wasn't having a good time.

"Lovely dinner, Datura." Mrs. Mellark senior complimented.

"Thank you," Peeta's mother nodded, her eyes connecting with her husbands briefly. "I'm glad you like it."

"Yes, it's very good. A little dry but," she shrugged. "I'm sure you did your best."

Peeta's mother dropped her eyes back to her own plate, but it was clear that she was bothered by the comment.

"Nana, will you come cheer us on at the rally?" Peeta asked brightly, the perfect image of the favourite grandchild. "We're holding the wrestling finals."

"Of course, I will. I wouldn't miss it." She smiled indulgently. "Is this your last year?"

"No, I still have senior year. But it's my first year without Rye." Peeta replied.

"Yeah, he might actually win this time," Rye commented playfully. "All the real competition is gone."

"Maybe," Peeta smiled.

"Your Da won every tournament, isn't that right, darling? He was unbeatable."

"Mama," Mr. Mellark said around a pleased smile. "I wasn't that good."

"He was the best." Mrs. Mellark senior declared.

"That's because he fought dirty," Hallah rolled her eyes. "He kicked Cartwright bellow the belt."

Mrs. Mellark seniors' lips tightened. "Always jealous of your brother," She shook her head. "It's unbecoming at your age, you know."

Hallah's face grew pinched, but she didn't reply further. She glared at her brother but otherwise continued eating. Mr. Mellark looked away with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"How have you been been handling things so far, Maggie?" My grandmother asked Bannock's wife. "I haven't seen you for a few weeks now."

"Oh," Maggie looked up, appearing surprised to be addressed directly. She lay a hand on her prominent baby bump. "I feel good enough, I suppose. I'm still nauseous."

"Some women stay nauseous during the entire pregnancy, unfortunately." Grandmother said empathetically. "I would still like to see you at the shop, or I could come to you, if that's preferable."

"Hopefully we'll finally have a girl." Peeta's mother chimed in. Peeta's eyes landed on his mother sourly for a moment or two before he looked away. "We could put some of those old baby clothes to use."

"I have no preference myself," Bannock said looking at his wife affectionately. "As long as they look like Maggie."

Maggie smiled back. Elsie visibly swooned from across the table.

"Why can't you be more like your brother?" Elsie teased Rye, who sat at her side. "All I ever get is a how was your day? Actually… maybe not even that!" She said to the rest of the table.

"That is not true!" Rye insisted with a laugh.

"Hm, didn't Rye flunk out of English?" Peeta smirked, "can't say I'm surprised he never learned to talk."

Rye laughed at tossed his roll at Peeta, "shut up, idiot."

"Boys," Mrs. Mellark glared at both of her sons. "Don't play with your food."

The mood sobered slightly. I continued pushing my food around.

"Katniss, it is Katniss, right?" I looked up in surprise. Mrs. Mellark senior was looking in my direction.

"Yes, Katniss." I confirmed.

"You're the miners daughter. Everdeen? The Everdeen man?"

My eyes slid over to Peeta quickly. He was looking at his grandmother with hard eyes. Who else? I wondered; it wasn't as if there were any other mixed families in the district.

"Yes. Spruce Everdeen was my father."

"I hope you won't follow in his treasonous footsteps." Mrs. Mellark senior huffed. "Now that you're a part of this family I expect that you'll leave all that savagery behind."

"Nana!" Peeta interjected in a sharp tone. "Don't speak to her that way."

"Peeta," I placed a hand on his arm. His entire body had tensed in a defensive manner at his grandmothers' words.

"I'm thinking in your best interest, dear." Mrs. Mellark senior insisted. "This is a loyalist family. We do not spit on the hand that feeds us."

"That is idiotic," Peeta said hotly.

"Peeta!" I chastised again. "She's your grandmother. Be respectful."

He frowned but conceded, leaning back into his seat. "I'm sorry."

"That's alright," she did not appear to be angry. She even smiled in his direction. "A good husband should defend his wife."

"Uncle G?" Juniper interjected, offering me a brief sympathetic smile. "Could you tell us about what they're doing with the market? I'm sure Grandma would like to know."

That seemed to work, as Galve appeared to be the sort of man who enjoyed speaking. Peeta relaxed next to me. His hand returned to my leg. I picked it up and held it with my own.

Dinner continued somewhat tensely as the family seemed unable to avoid passive-aggressive commentary. As time passed, I began to see who was angry with who. There appeared to be some bad blood between Mr. Mellark and his sister. She mainly conversed with her husband but was easily drawn into snippy commentary if she found a way to insult him. Galve never spoke to his own sister directly, not once. He had no spouse with him. Prim sparkled under Mr. Mellark's and his wife's attention. They seemed to like her leagues better than they liked me and I was glad for it. Prim was too likeable to attack.

I was mopping up some gravy with my roll, which wasn't salty at all, feeling certain we'd survived the worst of it. But Peeta's grandmother was out for the kill.

"And Katniss, I trust you've broken off the relationship with the miner boy?" Mrs. Mellark senior said with a pleasant smile. "To ward off illegitimate children, I'm sure."

"That's enough," Peeta stood before I had the chance to respond. "We're leaving."

"Peeta, don't be ridiculous." His mother spoke up. "It is a fair question. She doesn't know her."

"She's been attacking her all night," he accused, tugging me to my feet. "Let's go."

"There is no relationship –" I began.

"Don't waste your breath, she won't believe it anyways." Peeta interjected. "Thanks for the food mom, I'll see you all later."

"Peeta!" His mother called out after us, but we were already out the door.

"I don't want you fighting with your grandmother over me," I said as we climbed down the stairs. "She's clearly just worried about you."

"She's hateful and prejudiced." He walked towards the shoe rack and stepped into his boots. "She can't talk to you like that."

"She's old," I insisted. "She isn't going to change."

"That's funny," Peeta pushed the door open but paused on the back stoop for a moment. "Mrs. Lightwood pulled a 180 for her family. My mom hasn't said anything horrible yet. The least she could do is treat you with respect."

I sighed and followed him out the door. "But you love your grandmother."

"I do," he agreed. "But that isn't an excuse."

We walked side-by-side in silence. The weather had cooled significantly once the sun went down. I reached over to grasp his hand in my own.

"I'm really sorry that my family sucks," I glanced over at him, but he was smiling up at the moon. "Your family is great and now they have to deal with mine for the rest of our lives."

"They're not that bad," I insisted. "I like your brothers. And I've always liked Juniper."

He met my eyes. "Don't let her hear you say that. She'll steal you away."

I laughed, "She's not my type."

He leaned down closer to me, "Oh, so you have a type?"

"Sure," I said teasingly.

"Well…?"

"Oh, it isn't you." I joked. "I was thinking someone better…"

"Ah, like Emory?"

"No," I laughed in surprise. "More like… hm, Finnick Odair."

"Finnick Odair?" He asked in a similarly playful tone. "Of course. I mean if I had the chance myself."

"You'd be crazy to turn him down." I smiled, coming to a stop in front of our house.

"Obviously." He smiled up at me as he stood on the street while I stood on the stoop above him. "Thank you for being so understanding tonight."

"No problem," I couldn't stop smiling at him. I pushed my hair away from my face. "Um."

"Yeah?"

I looked at him meaningfully, "So."

"Uh huh?"

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Well, aren't you going to kiss me?"

He laughed.

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