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Prompt 110: A time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay, (any part of the book, it's up to you), winds up back the day before her sister's first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what's coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again? [submitted by @wingletblackbird]
A/N: I’d like to apologise for submitting this so incredibly late and I’d like to thank @wingletblackbird for sending this great prompt. I hope you like where I’m going with it.
@567inpanem thank you for sharing all your incredible ideas with me. Without all your comments and insightful questions I probably wouldn’t have figured out what I wanted for this story.
Finally, this won’t be a very long fic. I’m thinking one more chapter and an epilogue.
Hope you enjoy.
A Second Chance
The winding corridors of District 13 ― always dark and dreary― seem to stretch endlessly under the dim nighttime lights.
Katniss runs. Her legs ―still stiff after days of inactivity― complain with each stride. Her lungs burn.
Undeterred, the Mockingjay gasps for air and fights back the pain. She doesn’t stop.
Turning a sharp corner, Katniss finds the supply closet which has become her haven. She pulls the door open, slips inside, and settles in the confined space hugging her knees tightly to her chest. Blanketed by the deepest dark, she heaves and cries.
It’s been almost a week since the rescue team brought Peeta back from the Capitol; nearly a week of recovering in silence; of waiting for the tracker jacker poison to leave his system; of hoping that Peeta ―her Peeta― will come back to her.
But it all seems pointless now. The boy she just saw thrashing against the restraints of his hospital bed isn’t the boy she once knew.
The kind baker’s son who took a beating so she could eat has been replaced by an angry mutt programmed to hate her.
Under the Capitol’s clutches, Peeta’s become what he dreaded the most: a piece in President Snow’s hateful Games; a government agent who can’t wait to see her dead.
Out of habit, Katniss repeats the words Plutarch and Prim have told her. Hijacking. Poisoning. Conditioning. Torture.
Her sister seems to think that these words mean something ―that they somehow explain Peeta’s actions― but to Katniss, they’re nothing but empty sounds. As she repeats them, she knows that they offer no comfort. They’re not enough to bring her peace ―not when all she can see is the bitterness in Peeta’s eyes.
Frustrated, Katniss covers her face with her hands and yells releasing all her pent up-anger until her chest feels hollow. The walls of her snug hiding place echo back her despair.
She wants to hold on to hope ―to find the strength to wait a little longer― but she’s tired; tired of being pushed and pulled, of not understanding what’s happening around her.
Exhausted, she lets her arms fall to her sides. Her entire body follows, sagging limply until her back is resting against the wall. Eventually, her breathing slows down. Her tears dry out.
Right before fatigue finally takes over, one last thought crosses her mind, “I wish I could go back.”
XXXXX
It's already morning when Katniss stirs.
With slow, lazy movements, she stretches ―taking a few seconds to enjoy the contentment that follows a good night’s sleep.
Her eyes blink open and, as the fog of slumber fades, she turns on her side to find her sister sleeping next to her.
Tears well in Katniss’s eyes at the sight of Prim looking so peaceful. She can’t even remember the last time she woke up feeling like this, content and safe, free from the night terrors and the pressure of being the Mockingjay; of being a victor.
Overcome with joy, Katniss runs her fingers through Prim’s golden hair pushing the tousled strands away from her face.
A small smile turns Prim's lips in response, but she doesn’t wake up. Sleepily, she wraps her arms around her pillow and lets out a contented sigh. There’s no trace of sorrow, no sign of worry, marring her delicate features.
Katniss is still marveling at how serene her sister looks when her brain finally catches on.
Realization, painful and sharp, hits her hard. Her body goes stiff as she takes the blow.
The girl sleeping next to her --with her dirty blond hair and rosy cheeks-- looks a lot like her sister, but she’s too young to be Prim.
With her peace shattered, her senses go on high alert and, for the first time since waking up, Katniss notices the light ―the warm rays of rising summer sun that filter through the frayed curtains casting a golden glow over everything they touch.
Her breath hitches. She’s never seen light like this in District 13.
She sits up in an instant, grabbing fist fulls of blankets as she tries to hold on to her sanity.
My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me. Peeta was taken prisoner. District 13 rescued him.With a shuddering sigh, she finishes, he hates me too.
As her heart settles, Katniss glances around taking in her surroundings, and carefully taking stock of everything she sees. A couple of shelves with a handful of knickknacks and some school supplies; a dresser that’s seen better days; a small desk with a chair.
The sight of the shabby furniture tears at her heart. Everything seems so familiar, and yet…
How can this be? There is no District 12. There is no District 12. There is no…
Her eyes land on a second bed on the far side of the room. It’s empty, but the rumpled sheets tell her someone’s slept in it. Mother.
Still too rattled to move, Katniss breathes the crisp morning air. The sweet scent of fresh mint tea that lingers in the room fills her lungs soothing her anxiety away.
As she slowly releases the air, Katniss begins to accept what her eyes tell her, what her gut already knows.
District 12 may be gone, but this feels too real to be a dream. Somehow, she’s gone back to the Seam.
XXXXX
Being careful not to disturb Prim, Katniss gets up from the bed and makes her way to the bathroom.
She’s about to close the door behind her when, out of the corner of her eye, she spots Mrs. Everdeen moving around in their small kitchen.
Katniss stops for a second to take in the scene, smiling fondly at the sight of her mother getting breakfast ready ―a small routine she hadn’t even realized she missed. Just one more thing President Snow’s bombs have taken away from her.
With a sigh, she goes into the bathroom.
The girl in the mirror is someone Katniss hasn’t seen in a long time. She’s small and scrawny, but she stands tall. Her eyes are bright and alert, a far cry from the dull gaze she’s seen reflected lately. The healthy glow in her sun-kissed cheeks betrays the long hours she spends hunting in the woods.
As she inspects her hands and arms, Katniss finds the small scars the Capitol doctors removed after she won her first Game. The ugly scar left by Johanna’s knife is nowhere to be found.
She still doesn’t understand what’s happening to her, ―why she’s back there or why everything seems so real― but she’s too tired and broken to look for an explanation. With a slow, soothing breath, she decides it’s pointless to question it.
The last thing she remembers is crawling into a closet and hoping for a chance to start over. Maybe this is it. So, for as long as this dream ―or whatever this is― lasts, she’s going to make the best of it.
She’s already washed and changed when there’s a knock on the door.
Fear sets in. Peacekeepers. Every muscle in her body tightens as she strains to hear any movements outside her house. There’s nothing.
Moving quickly, Katniss finishes braiding her hair. She still hasn’t figured out how to avoid her visitors when she hears Prim walking across the living room.
“Coming,” Prim calls out just as Katniss pushes the bathroom door open. She wants to yell at her sister to stop, but it’s too late. Prim is already opening the door and greeting someone. The cheerful tone in her voice takes Katniss by surprise, but the familiar lilt that answers back eases her worries.
“Morning, Catnip,” Gale says looking past Prim who is already heading for the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Katniss smiles. Just like Prim, Gale looks younger. There’s an innocence in his smile she hasn’t seen in ages. The disappointment and heartbreak that will soon start chipping away at his spirit haven’t found him yet.
“Morning,” Katniss answers as she motions for him to step inside. The heavy satchel she sees hanging from his shoulders reminds her of why he’s there. “Good haul?”
“Yup.” After greeting Mrs. Everdeen, Gale walks to the kitchen table and drops his bag on it. “I found a couple of rabbits.”
“Nice!” Katniss reaches her friend’s side and watches as he pulls two brown rabbits out of his bag.
Watching her friend in action, Katniss is struck by how clearly she remembers this moment. Gale dropping by in the mornings was a regular occurrence ―especially on Fridays when he took the afternoons off and left Katniss in charge of trading whatever he caught― but the two fat rabbits on her table weren’t so common. She remembers taking this pair to town and trading them for oil, grains, soap, and candles.
Glancing back, Katniss takes a quick look at the digital clock flashing at the top of their Capitol-issued TV. The date displayed in bright shining numbers is more a confirmation than a surprise. It’s her last day of school --the day before Prim’s first reaping; the last day of her old life.
“Are you staying for breakfast?” Mrs. Everdeen asks breaking into her daughter’s thoughts.
Gale shakes his head. “Thank you, Mrs. E, but I have to go home. I promised Rory we would walk to school together.”
Mrs. Everdeen nods in understanding. Gale usually stays over for breakfast, but this is a special day.
Without another word, the healer pulls two soft tea towels out of a drawer and hands them over to her daughter.
Katniss lifts the rabbits off the table and, a moment later, they’re both wrapped and on their way to the icebox. “I’ll take them to town after school,” she tells Gale. “Did you bring your list?”
“Mm-hmm.” With a graceful flourish, Gale pulls the crumpled paper out of his satchel. “It’s just the usual. A couple extra candles would be nice if you can get them.”
“Sure.” She pockets the list.
“Alright.” With a sigh, Gale sets the satchel back on his shoulder. The empty bag sags limply hugging his long torso. “I better get going. Don’t want to be late for my last day.”
Katniss nods. After he’s exchanged a quick goodbye with Mrs. Everdeen, she follows him out of the kitchen.
Gale’s almost at the front door when he stops and turns around. “Are you going to the Meadow after your trades?”
Katniss stops short. She knows what’s coming.
Every year the children of District 12 gather in the Meadow to celebrate their last day of school, and to try to distract themselves from the fact that the reaping is only a few hours away.
Like in a dream, Katniss remembers going to the Meadow with Prim that year and sharing a candied apple with her and Rory.
She also remembers spending a lot of time alone with Gale ―and talking about seemingly trivial things― while their siblings ran around playing games and greeting their friends.
Now, as she looks into her friend’s expectant eyes, she wonders whether the words he’s about to say will be meant in something other than friendship.
Was this moment the beginning of a courtship?
She hadn’t considered it at the time. How could she, she was entirely in the dark, but now that she knows how Gale feels about her, she’s suddenly not so sure anymore.
Knowing he’s waiting for an answer, Katniss nods.
Gale smiles. “Maybe we could go together after you stop by my place.”
Katniss’s mouth goes dry. If this is a second chance ―an opportunity to do better― shouldn’t she be doing things differently?
Before her mind trails down the confusing path of trying to figure out what she should and shouldn’t be doing, Katniss decides that, in the big scheme of things, Gale’s invitation doesn’t matter much. She can give him an answer now, and change her mind later.
Returning his smile, she tells him she’ll meet him there.
Gale nods. His eyes don’t betray any hidden agendas.Maybe this was just a friendly invitation after all.
Turning on his heel, he pulls the door open and leaves.
XXXXX
Breakfast was never a big affair when Katniss lived in the Seam. Compared to the feasts her mother used to make in Victors’ Village, today’s meal seems paltry; and still, Katniss doesn’t even have to try the modest spread of oats, goat cheese, and dried fruit to know it’s tastier than anything she’s ever eaten in District 13.
The truth is that, despite it all, the Everdeen’s were already doing better than most at this point in their lives.
Once breakfast is over, Katniss takes the empty dishes to the sink. “Let’s go, little duck!”
Prim kisses her mother goodbye and, a moment later, the sisters are out the door and on their way to school.
It’s a beautiful summer day, warm and balmy, but the anxiety of the looming reaping ―mixed with the anticipation of the long-awaited school break― sends a ripple of nervous energy coursing through the air.
The people of the Seam rush by, eager to start their day, but Katniss doesn’t hurry. Walking hand in hand with Prim, she marvels at the sight of her District ―still intact and alive, humming with activity.
Amazed, her eyes flit here and there as she takes in the world around her. The uneven paving stones beneath her feet; the green leaves that cover the trees; the joyous blue of the cloudless sky.
The woods beyond the fence call out to her, lush and bountiful. So when she spots a small flock of swallows flying past on their way to the forest, she keeps her gaze on them ―following as they disappear in the distance, far beyond the run-down shacks and the ramshackle outline of the Hob.
When they reach the town, Katniss’s breath hitches.
The last time she was there she saw nothing but a pile of rubble and ash, a cemetery for her fallen people. But there are no ruins today ―they haven’t been created yet. The buildings lining the square are shabby and neglected, the paint on their façades chipped and faded, but they’re still there, standing exactly as she remembers them.
Her heart quickens as soon as she spots the bakery. Tilting her head in its direction, Katniss asks, “It's still early. Would you like to take a look at the cakes?”
Prim’s eyes snap open in surprise. Katniss has never shown any interest in the beautiful cakes Mr. Mellark sells. If anything, she usually has to be dragged over there. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Before Katniss can change her mind, Prim changes course and quickens her step. She doesn’t let go of Katniss's hand until they’ve reached the shop.
“Wow!” Prim exclaims getting as close to the window as she dares. A two-tier cake, frosted in pale pink fondant and adorned with sugar cherry blooms, takes most of the space.
Katniss laughs at her sister’s enthusiasm. Stepping closer, she scans the baked goods on display until she finds what she’s looking for. “I like these better,” she says once she finds the frosted cookies she knows only Peeta could have painted. “The flowers are beautiful.”
Prim sighs. “They’re gorgeous.”
Katniss reaches for one of Prim’s braids and gives it a playful tug. “Maybe one day, little duck.”
“Yeah.” Prim’s eyes, bright and hopeful, land on her sister’s. “Maybe for a birthday.”
Katniss nods. She’s about to tell Prim that it’s time to go when the sound of creaking hinges―followed by the bakery’s front door swinging open― makes her turn.
An instant later, Peeta walks out.
A small whimper escapes Katniss’s lips as she gasps ―the sight of him running through her like morphling, dulling the pain of the last few weeks and mending her broken heart.
He looks good. Younger, of course, ―just like everyone else― but he also looks healthy, strong, whole. The softness in his features reminds Katniss of his kindness, his innocence, his warmth.
The door whines closed. Peeta starts walking but, as soon as he sees the two girls standing in front of the bakery, he stops short.
“Morning, Peeta.” Katniss blurts out.
Startled, Peeta looks up at her. As recognition sets in, his blue eyes widen.
Katniss’s cheeks turn pink. She knows she's being too bold. She’s never spoken to Peeta in this timeline, and there shouldn't be so much familiarity in her voice, but there’s nothing she can do to change what she’s done so, she gestures towards the window and keeps talking, “We were just looking at your cakes.”
“Oh,” Peeta breathes out, his deep blue eyes focused on her.
His lips part but, before he can say anything, Prim pivots around. Her eyes sparkle with wonder when she asks, “You make these?”
Snapping out of his stupor, Peeta turns his attention to Katniss’s sister and nods.
“They're amazing!” Prim exclaims.
Peeta's shoulders pull back as he straightens up, seemingly growing taller under Prim’s praise. The shy smile Katniss has missed so much tugs at his lips. “Thank you! Which one do you like?”
“I like all of them!” Prim’s smiling so brightly the morning sun’s put to shame. “But the pink cake is my favorite today!”
“Well, that one’s a special order.” Relaxing his stance, Peeta slips his hands in his pants’ pockets and begins bouncing a little in place. “I had to spend a little more time with it.”
Peeta’s nervous tic makes Katniss’s heart ache. She remembers him rocking on his feet like that during their first trip to the Capitol, but never since. The Peeta who kissed her under the Quarter Quell’s pink sky couldn’t do that anymore―not with the prosthetic he had to wear.
Unaware of her thoughts, Peeta's eyes flit back to Katniss. “And you…Katniss? Which one do you like?”
Katniss points to the small dish with cookies on the lower shelf. “The yellow dandelions. They’re ―,”
The front door creaks and swings open again. Rye ―Peeta’s middle brother― steps out onto the street and turns in their direction.
A lump settles in Katniss’s throat at the sight of him alive and well. With a shaky sigh, she pushes it down.
Rye pats his brother on the back. “Hey, Peet, let’s go!” He’s about to tousle Peeta’s hair when his eyes land on the Everdeen girls. A slow, mischievous grin turns his lips. Tilting his head in Katniss’s direction, he says, “Morning, ladies. Ready for school?”
Prim and Katniss answer with twin nods and, without another word, the four of them start walking.
The group has almost reached the end of the block when Prim shyly addresses Peeta once more. ”So, when did you start frosting cakes?”
Peeta smiles, grateful for the conversation opener. “When I was eight. My father taught me how to make the frosting and mix the food coloring when I was younger, but I wasn’t allowed to decorate anything big until he made sure I could do it properly.”
“He’s the only one of us who has any real talent for it,” Rye pipes in. “Bran and I are good at kneading and baking, but we don’t have the patience or the skill Peeta has.”
“You’re a true artist,” Prim says with as much seriousness as she can muster.
“Thank you, Prim,” Peeta says, evidently touched by the girl’s heartfelt words.
Prim’s eyes snap open at the sound of her name. She has traded with Mr. Mellark a few times ―and she knows Katniss takes her squirrels to the bakery― but she’s never imagined that the baker’s sons would know who she is.
Encouraged by Peeta’s familiarity, Prim starts to talk once more but, before she can really say anything, Katniss gives her arm a little squeeze. “You better hurry, little duck, the bell’s about to ring.”
Prim’s shoulders slump, but she doesn’t argue. Using her most winning smile, she turns to the baker’s sons. “See you later!”
“See you later, Prim!” The brothers answer in unison making Prim’s smile widen even more.
As soon as Prim walks away, Rye stops and gestures towards the gym on the back of the school. “Alright, guys, I’m headed that way.” Playfully, he bumps his fist on his brother’s shoulder. “See you later, bro.” His blue eyes land on Katniss and he nods once. “Katniss.”
Fighting the sudden urge to cry, Katniss quickly nods back.
The schoolyard is crowded with busy people rushing towards their classrooms, but Katniss sticks by Peeta’s side. “History class?” she asks once they’ve reached the main building.
Peeta nods, his cheeks turning beet red.
The thought of Peeta ―articulate, charming, smooth-talking Peeta― being tongue-tied around her is so endearing that she can’t help but gift him with a smile.
The small gesture seems to be all the encouragement he needs. After clearing his throat, Peeta asks, “So, are you going to the Meadow tonight?”
Without hesitation, Katniss nods. “You?”
“I have to cover for Rye at the bakery,” he explains in a rush, “but I’ll be there after we close.”
“I have some stuff I have to do too. I probably won’t get there before five.”
Peeta nods. The spark in his eyes tells her he wants to ask her something else ―he might even be looking for the words to ask her out more formally― but something seems to be stopping him.
The door to their classroom is only a few steps away when a fragment of an old conversation comes back to her mind. “I knew you had something with Gale,” Peeta had said. “I was jealous of him before I even officially met you.”
Katniss stops short. As far as she knows, this is her one chance to spend some quality time with Peeta before they’re both thrown into the Capitol’s clutches. She’s not about to waste it by following District 12’s social rules.
Reaching for Peeta’s arm to stop him, she asks, “Maybe I’ll see you there?”
Peeta whirls around. His golden eyelashes shine under a beam of the morning sun. His goofy grin melts her heart. “We could meet by the bonfire.”
Katniss nods. “A little after five?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She’s still holding on to his bicep when Tessa, a miner’s daughter who’s in their class, clears her throat to get their attention. “Going in?” the girl asks with a pointed look.
Flustered, Katniss lets go of Peeta. “Yeah, sure.”
With Tessa trailing closely behind, Katniss and Peeta walk into their classroom. She wants to stay by his side a little longer, but their classmates are coming in, and she doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to her actions.
Before walking away to her assigned seat by the window, she turns to look at him. “See you later, Peeta.”
Peeta’s smile has never been brighter. “Later, Katniss.”
XXXXX
Katniss rests her chin on her hand and stares out the window. She’s almost two years older than she was the first time she lived this day. She’s survived two arenas, ignited a revolution, and rallied troops into battle but, as she longingly looks out onto her woods, she feels as lost as a piece of driftwood floating out at sea.
As soon as Mr. Harris’s class had begun, Katniss had blocked out the world to let her mind wander; thinking the two-hour class would give her enough time to understand her current situation and to figure out what to do with this extraordinary second chance at life.
Her first instinct had been to take her family out into the woods and run. It wasn’t a new plan, she had considered it so many times it had become a part of her, but knowing about District 13’s existence and location made it seem easier than ever before.
We could just sneak under the fence and head out over there, she reasoned.Even if I'm not the Mockingjay, we've got some valuable skills. President Coin would welcome us with open arms.
The project was simple enough but, before long, the whole notion began to unravel. Because, even though Katniss believed it was a good idea, once she considered all the ramifications, she could see it was also unrealistic. There were just too many variables, too many factors she couldn’t control.
Prim and her mother were her first obstacle. She knew they loved and trusted her ―she was sure they would follow wherever she led― but that didn’t mean she’d be able to convince them to abandon everything they knew in such short notice; not at this point in time.
And, even if she somehow got them to leave in less than 24 hours, how would they manage in the woods? Yes, summertime meant warmer temperatures and easy access to food, but Katniss didn’t have enough supplies to venture out ―she certainly didn’t have enough time or money to buy them.
Then, there was Peeta. Who was currently seating just a few rows ahead of her with his head bent sideways as he scribbled something on his notebook ―most likely doodling or sketching in the way she knew he did when he was bored. There was no way she could leave him behind, ―not when Effie was just a few hours away from pulling his name out of the reaping bowl― but how could she bring him along? Even if he did have a crush on her, they had only spoken for the first time this morning. He was a merchant boy who had never been on the other side of the fence. What could she possibly say to him to make him escape out unto the unknown?
As she turned her alternatives over in her head, her mind flitted back to Gale ―considering him in the way she always did when she thought about the woods. He wasn’t in any imminent danger ―he wasn’t about to get reaped, and nobody knew who he was― but Katniss couldn’t see herself leaving without him. The idea to escape had initially come from him, after all. But ―just like her― Gale wasn’t alone; and, even if he had been willing to help her, she couldn’t ask him to leave his siblings and Hazelle behind.
Finally, there was the reaping. As it turned out, Katniss's main reason for wanting to escape was also her most significant hurdle. The more she thought about it, the better she understood that avoiding it wasn’t really an option.
With a soft sigh, Katniss drops her hands to her lap and silently admits her defeat. No matter what, she and Prim are expected to register for the draw the following day. Sure, they might be able to get out of participating by not showing up for the registration but, as soon as the process is completed, and the list of available names is crossed out, peacekeepers will be sent out to investigate.
At the front of the class, Mr. Harris catches Katniss’s attention by reminding his students of the consequences for those who fail to register. “Empty domiciles will immediately trigger an investigation. This means that search parties will be deployed using every resource available, including ―but not limited to― all Capitol hovercraft present in the area.” With a stern look, Mr. Harris glances around the class letting his words of warning linger in the damp air for a moment. “Is that understood?”
With a quiet grumble, Katniss joins her classmates in assuring Mr. Harris that he’s been heard.
As her teacher starts talking about what constitutes proper attire for reaping day, Katniss withdraws into her thoughts once more and, with a sinking heart, comes to terms with the fact that knowing what’s about to happen doesn’t mean that she can alter her past. Not in any meaningful way, at least.
Deep down, she knows that she might have had a shot at escaping detection on her own; but her would be companions don’t know their way around the woods. A Capitol hovercraft would easily find them, and then…
For an instant, she imagines Prim, wearing the uniform of a faceless servant as she works alongside the red-headed Avox girl from the training center and a heavy lump settles in her throat.
Blinking to fight the tears welling in her eyes, Katniss promises herself that ―no matter what― that won’t be her sister’s future. No, as much as she wants to run and hide, Katniss knows she can’t.
Now, as she sits in her musty old classroom and stares at the back of Peeta’s and Madge Undersee’s heads, a new idea takes shape.
She can’t avoid the reaping ―and she probably can’t escape the Game either― but that doesn’t mean she can’t change things.
She already knows a lot more than she did before and, who knows, maybe that will make a difference. She won't be able to save everyone, but she might still be able to save not only Prim, and her mother, and Gale ―like she originally wanted― but also Peeta, and Madge, and some of the others.
As Mr. Harris prattles on about the proper protocol for reaping day, Katniss finally relaxes into her seat and smiles. Maybe, if she gets things right this time around, she won’t have to watch her district burn.
As her gaze returns to her woods once more, Katniss doesn’t think about food, supplies or hunting equipment anymore. For the first time in a long while, the huntress is too busy dreaming up ways to spend more time with Peeta ―the old Peeta― before the nightmare of their future begins catching up to them to think about anything else.
Hey, Flo! I know you’re always looking for inspiration so, how about this prompt? “I fell asleep on the subway and missed my stop” (not that this has ever happened to me 😉) Thanks!
Of course. It has to be today of all days. Today, when I have the most important interview of my life, the one that should have granted me access to Crane Enterprises. And I fell asleep on the subway. And missed my stop.
I haven’t been able to sleep well these last nights, coming back to this interview over and over. Now i’m not even late anymore - I’m beyond salvation.
I missed my chance.
I make my way out of the station, fighting the tears. I will not cry in the middle of the street. A small sign catches my eye, its unusual shade of orange shining in the morning sun. A bakery, I realize as I walk closer, with tables and countertops.
A craving for coffee suddenly overcomes me I enter the building.
“Good morning, Ma’am. What can I do for you?” a young woman asks me. Rue, her nametag says. She’s friendly and smiling as she leads me to one of the high tables, taking my order for a chocolate - her girl can change her mind, right ? - and a croissant. Because I need sugar and butter to keep me from scrambling.
Here I could cry, really. But it’s too warm, too cosy, too comfy. I could. Maybe I should, I don’t know.
I expect Rue to come back with my order. Instead I find myself face to face with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Like the sky and the ocean were mixed together to give a unique color.
“A chocolate, a croissant, and I added a cinnamon roll because they were just fresh from the oven - on the house.”
It smells heavenly.
“You do that to all your clients?” I ask, wondering how the business can be alive if the employees give away pastries to everyone.
“Only the ones I want to see again.” He says, as he extends his hand. “Peeta Mellark. Welcome to my bakery.”
A snort interrupts him, as an older man chimes in.
“That’s why you never offer me anything. You don’t want me back, Bread Boy!”
“You know you’ll come anyways, Haymitch. You’re addicted to my buns.”
I’m glad I haven’t tasted the chocolate yet, as I’m pretty sure I would have spit it everywhere around. His BUNS?
“Cool down, Sweetheart” Haymtich-guy says. “He’s talking about his cheese buns. I’ll leave you to the other ones…” I almost chocke at his innuendo.
“Shut up and go save the world, Haymitch. Don’t scare the customers away.” Peeta interrupts.
“Save the world?” I ask, as this old man doesn’t look like a superhero at all.
Peeta turns to me.
“Yeah. He has a tiny company, Abernathy, something about the environment? Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
—
I missed my subway station today. It made me go to a small, quaint bakery in the suburbs.
Instead of a job at Crane Enterprises, I have found one at Abernathy’s. One of the biggest environnmental company in the world.
I may have found a boyfriend too. But that’s a story i’m not ready to share … Yet.
Here it is, @javistg .. sorry for the delay - it’s been ages since you’ve submitted this prompt to me, right ? Hope you’ll like it. Un-betaed, all mistakes are mine :)
Here’s a short preview of the fic I’ll be donating to @loveinpanem’s “A Candle for the Caribbean” collection.
Please consider donating to this beautiful cause. Remember, every little bit we do helps.
XXXXX
Everlark. Canon-compliant (mostly), Post Mockingjay, Pre-Epilogue.
Rated: G
Summary: Katniss Everdeen learns about her past as she gets ready to face her future.
Love Letters
Dear Miss Tate,
I hope this letter finds you well.
I know we’ve only known each other for a couple of months, but it wouldn’t be right for me to go on without telling you what’s in my heart.
Forgive me if I don’t use sweet words and flowery adjectives to describe this madness that’s taken over my mind, but I respect you far too much to waste your time with tricks and flattery.
As you read this, you’ll probably think I’m too forward. You’re right. I shouldn’t be writing any of this, –and I definitely shouldn’t be giving it to you– but the truth is that you’ve sparked a fire within me; a beautiful, powerful, maddening fire that overwhelms me and consumes my every thought.
I’ve tried fighting it, but it pushes right back, defeating me at every turn. I’m at its mercy, helpless against it and, as much as I’d want to, I can’t keep it hidden any longer.
I know that you recently aged-out of the selection process. I must confess that few things have made me happier than watching the relief reflected on your sweet face after your last reaping just a couple of weeks ago.
I realize that, unlike me, –a poor miner’s son who’s destined to be no more than a miner himself– you have prospects ahead of you.
In all likelihood, you already have a suitor of your family’s choosing who’s waiting to make you his wife; or maybe even a cherished sweetheart who knows your heart’s secrets and desires.
If that is the case, please, ignore my letter. Feel free to dispose of it and never think back on it again. Be with your betrothed, and be happy.
But, if your heart isn’t attached, I urge you to hear my words.
You are in my mind, Lillian. You are in my heart, in my soul. You are the warmth in my days and the magic in my nights. You are hope, and faith, and longing; my heart’s one true desire.
You captured my imagination from the first moment we met, and there’s nothing I can do to set it free.
You hold the key to my happiness. I hope with all my heart that you’ll allow me to be yours.
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Chapter 7 of Powder Keg was gorgeous! I love how you linked it to canon. And all the good times at the snack bar with Gale and the rest were sweet too. Thanks for this lovely treat! Happy holidays.
Thank you so much @javistg! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I feel so lucky to have been asked. And when I saw that Katniss was laid up with her knee, well, you know all I could think of was Cheesebuns Time! I am so glad you enjoyed it!!!
Hello, dear! Secret Santa here! Well, I guess I’m not that secret anymore ;) Looks like we survived one more holiday season! Hope you enjoyed the messages and Everlark treats. I had a great time sending them your way. I wish you happy holidays and a wonderful new year, full of love, joy and inspiration. See you around!
@javistg -MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU AS WELL! I enjoyed your messages & Everlark treats! I wish you a frazzle free holiday and a stress free New Year!
Happy Birthday @everlart! We here at @everlarkbirthdaydrabbles hope that you've had a fantastic day. Here's a little gift for you, penned by the always amazing @javistg!
A Knock at the Door
AN: Happy birthday! Hope you’re having an amazing day :)
“Soon after I go to bed, there’s a quiet knock on my door, but I ignore it. I don’t want Peeta tonight. Especially not with Darius around.”
CF p220
Canon divergent. What if Katniss had opened the door?
Dinner goes by in a blur. Katniss pushes her peas around her plate and struggles with the fact that the avox standing next to her is none other than Darius.
After dinner, she wedges herself between Haymitch and Cinna to watch the recap of the Quarter Quell’s opening ceremonies. Her heart sinks as she follows her competition on the screen. The parade of aging victors looks pitiful in her eyes.
With a quick goodbye, Katniss heads back to her room and gets ready for bed.
She’s already tucked in for the night when she hears a quiet knock on her door. Peeta.
Her first instinct is to ignore him. To hide under the covers and hope her district partner goes away.
But, as she burrows deep into the blankets, she’s hit by how mad she still is at him for laughing at her, for betraying her to the other victors by joining in their mockery and ridicule.
Suddenly, the burning anger which has been simmering inside her all night takes over. With a determined huff, she jumps out of bed and rushes to open the door.
The door swings open and Peeta takes a step back; blue eyes wide and alert as he takes in Katniss’s sudden appearance.
Her tone is clipped, businesslike. “What do you want?”
He clears his throat. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
A moment later, Peeta sighs, his whole body seems to deflate as the air leaves his lungs. His eyes, soft and pleading, find hers. “I also came to apologize.”
“You’ve done that already,” she grumbles, crossing her arms as she desperately tries to ignore the way his presence soothes her. She needs to stay mad at him, if only for tonight.
Peeta nods, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. But, somehow, I got the feeling that it didn’t take. So, I’m here to try again.”
Katniss shrugs. “Fine, whatever, apology accepted.” She takes a small step back and moves to close the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Peeta lunges forward, placing a firm hand on the door. “Wait! Katniss, please, don’t shut me out.”
His words rekindle her fire. Months of longing and frustration finally come pouring out of her like an avalanche of feelings she’s unable to control.
“Cause that’s your job, right?” she yells, “Keeping me at arm’s length, treating me like I’m nothing but a body you can mold and train, something to bark instructions at. After all these months of being nothing but my trainer, you suddenly want to be my friend? What makes you think I even want you here?”
Peeta stills and stares at her, his knuckles white as he holds the door open.
Startled by the vehemence of her own words, Katniss steps away from him and buries her face in her hands.
Her mind reels. She desperately wishes she could take it all back. Because, even if she’s mad at Peeta, and she knows he deserves her anger, he doesn’t merit her hate, though. Never her hate. Not after everything he’s done.
Silence stretches between them, thick and oppressive, charged with sorrow and regret. They’ve spent so many weeks dancing around each other, leaving things unsaid, that they don’t know how far they can go with each other anymore.
When she finally brings herself to look up at him, she notices that he hasn’t moved an inch. A mix of surprise and hurt clouds his features, making him look so much like the 11-year old boy who threw her the bread that she can’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.
She wants to run into his arms, to throw herself at his mercy and ask his forgiveness for hurting him yet again. But she’s stubborn and afraid, so she stands there, feeling guilty and small, trembling like a leaf in a storm.
It doesn’t take long for Peeta to snap into action. Wordlessly, he closes the distance between them. His arms reach out for Katniss and pull her to him.
She mirrors his motions, automatically wrapping her arms around his broad frame. She’s so hungry for his touch that she buries her face in his shirt and breathes him in, filling her senses with the musky scent of cinnamon and spices she knows can only be his.
His arms tighten around her. She melts into his embrace, tightly clutching his sleep shirt in her fists and pulling him impossibly close.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her hair.
Peeta’s tender words touch something deep within her. Suddenly, all the walls she’s carefully erected to protect herself come crumbling down. Unguarded, Katniss cries.
Fat, sad tears stream down her cheeks, warming her face and soaking Peeta’s soft shirt.
“I’m sorry,” Peeta repeats, pressing his lips to the top of Katniss’s head.
Sobs wrack through her body, and she holds on to him, desperately, like a girl shipwrecked at sea grasping at the last piece of driftwood within her reach.
Peeta doesn’t let go. His warm, steady hand strokes her back, and he begins to sway, rocking in a gentle, soothing motion.
Katniss’s tears slowly run out, turning her sad whimpering into a round of hiccups that make her whole body shake. Annoyed, she loosens her hold on Peeta and steps back just enough to see his face.
Peeta’s eyes are puffy and red. He’s smiling softly at her, but he still looks as broken and defeated as she feels.
She reaches up and, with tender strokes, brushes his golden waves away from his face. “I’m sorry… Peeta,” she whispers between hiccups, “I didn't… mean that.”
Peeta’s smile widens. “Hold your breath.”
She rolls her eyes but does as she’s told, dramatically using her fingers to block the air flow from her nose. As soon as her lungs begin to burn, she lets go of her nose, happily expelling all the air from her chest before greedily taking her next breath.
With her breathing under control, she turns to Peeta once more. His eyes find hers. There’s a spark in them that makes her skin tingle.
Suddenly, the words she wanted to say to him when they stepped off their carriage earlier in the day rush back into her mind. Fighting the soft blush that’s creeping up her cheeks, Katniss clears her throat. Her shy voice fills the air between them. “Glowing embers suit you, you know? You should wear them more often.”
Peeta’s eyebrows shoot up. His playful smile lights up the room. “Oh, yeah? I’ll let Portia know, maybe she can do something about that,” he says with a wink.
Katniss chuckles. Stepping closer to him, she places her outstretched palm over his chest, eager to feel the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips.
Peeta’s hand covers hers. His mirth is replaced by nostalgia when he says, “That was the first time you ever kissed me.”
Katniss nods. She’s blushing furiously now, but her proximity to Peeta is making her reckless, so she pushes through. “I thought you were messing with me,” she admits, “that you were trying to distract me, or something.”
She feels him tense under her touch. His walls are coming up. “Is that why you kissed me, to distract me?”
Katniss bites her lip and nods lowering her eyes to the ground. She doesn’t want to hurt him, but she feels so close to him right now that she can’t bring herself to lie.
Swallowing thickly, she admits, “That’s what I thought at the time. But I’m not so sure anymore.” Her heart’s beating a mile a minute, it’s making her lightheaded. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you today. I really have no right. You don’t owe me anything, Peeta.”
Hooking his index under her chin, Peeta lifts Katniss’s face. Ocean blue eyes, full of kindness and affection look down at her. “Maybe I don’t. But I’m still on your side, no matter what. And I don’t care what anyone thinks. In my eyes, you’re perfect, Katniss. You’ve always been.”
She pulls her face away from him, simultaneously rolling her eyes and fixing him with a murderous scowl. “You shouldn’t say things like that,” she huffs.
Peeta laughs, it’s warm and contagious. It makes her heart flutter.
“And miss out on that fierce scowl of yours?” he asks, “No way!”
She crosses her arms and drops her chin to her chest. “You’re an idiot,” she grumbles through her smile.
Peeta chuckles. After a moment, he sobers up. Slowly, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Are we ok?”
Katniss nods.
“Good.” His fingers slide down her messy braid, giving it a soft tug when they reach the end. “Alright, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
He’s almost out the door when Katniss calls out. “Peeta?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think… Could you stay?”
It takes Peeta a full second to process Katniss’s request. It’s hard to focus on her words when his heart is beating so fast he fears it might explode. With a deep breath, he steps back into the room, quietly pushing the door shut behind him.
He looks at Katniss. She’s standing a few steps away, waiting for him, looking frazzled as she anxiously fiddles with the hem of her sleep shirt.
He doesn’t move, but he smiles at her and watches as her face immediately lights up with something that’s both foreign and achingly familiar. Hope.
He wants to run to her, to repeat the promise he once made, to tell her that he’ll stay by her side, always. But he knows how uncomfortable those words make her. And, given how little ‘always’ amounts to under their current circumstances, he decides to avoid any grand gestures and settle with a simple “Yes.”
