After the rebellion

Settled

*Katniss Pov*

The wind carried the scent of pine and woodsmoke as I stepped through the back door, the creak of the old hinges as familiar as the ache in my shoulder on cold nights. 

I paused for a moment on the threshold, my coat heavy in my hands, and breathed in.

Rosemary. Bread. A hint of something sweet—probably the honey glaze Peeta uses when he knows there'll be children.

Home.

I hung up my coat, brushed the last of the travel dust from my sleeves, and listened. 

Laughter echoed from the dining room, high and low, warm and real.

 For the first time in weeks, my chest didn't feel tight. No heaviness. Just... stillness.

And then I heard her—Lillian Hawthorne—letting out a high, delighted shriek.

 I stepped into the room just as Peeta handed her a tiny wooden spoon, her chubby hands waving it like a trophy. He glanced up and saw me.

His smile bloomed instantly, like I'd never been gone. 

"You glow," he said softly, brushing a kiss against my cheek.

"I showered," I muttered, but I smiled anyway. It was easy here. Easier than I'd expected.

"Look who finally came back from her fancy vacation," Johanna drawled from the corner. She was slouched with her boots kicked up on one of our kitchen chairs, a drink in hand and a smirk on her lips.

"It wasn't a vacation," I said, rolling my eyes. "And definitely not fancy."

"Did you get a robe?" she asked, deadpan.

"...yes."

"Then it was a vacation."

Peeta laughed beside me, and I leaned into his warmth without thinking. It wasn't just the room that was warm. It was the people in it.

Gale was bouncing Lillian on his knee, trying to keep her from flinging the spoon at the fireplace.

 Claudine sat beside him, her laughter easy and familiar, one hand resting on Hunter's head as he darted under the table chasing Finn with a carved fox in each hand.

Annie sat near the window with Finn in her lap, humming softly as she combed her fingers through his hair. 

He was growing fast, four now and his eyes held the same quiet depth that his father's once did.

 Sometimes I caught Annie watching him like he was a wave she couldn't quite hold. But tonight, she looked peaceful.

Haymitch was sipping something suspicious and trying not to smile at Effie, who looked entirely out of place and completely at home in a floral sweater and glittering hairpins.

I sat down beside Peeta, just as he passed me a slice of bread still warm from the oven. The butter melted instantly.

"We missed you," he said quietly, just for me.

"I missed this," I admitted, breaking off a piece and popping it into my mouth.

Maybe I'd needed the month away. The quiet. 

The space to sort out what peace really felt like. But here, in this moment. 

Finn's giggles, Johanna's sarcasm, Peeta's hand brushing against mine under the table, his was the kind of therapy no doctor could prescribe.

This was mine.

Peeta passed around the fresh bread while I poured drinks, warm cider with cinnamon for the adults, and a lighter version for the kids. 

Hunter, just barely two, tried to grab the pitcher from my hands.

"Not quite yet, little guy," I told him, laughing softly. He grinned, a dimple popping in his left cheek—definitely Claudine's smile, but with Gale's wide eyes. 

His hair was a tangle of coppery brown, like dried leaves in late fall.

Claudine came up beside me to take a stack of plates to the table. 

"It's good to have you back," she said. "Gale's been pretending he didn't miss you, but I caught him staring out the window twice last week."

I smirked. "Did he admit it?"

She tilted her head, mock-thinking. "Only in the way that he said, 'the damn squirrels are getting bold without Katniss around.'"

I barked a laugh. That sounded exactly like Gale. 

"Hey where's Willow?". She asks her voice filled with curiosity. "Peeta put her down for a n

Dinner began the way all dinners should, with second helpings before anyone had even finished the first. 

Peeta had made a rosemary-roasted chicken with root vegetables from the small garden we kept behind the house. 

It was rustic and comforting and tasted like home.

Annie helped Finn with his plate, carefully cutting tiny pieces of carrot and potato.

"Mom," he said, wide-eyed, "can I have more of the sweet orange ones?"

"They're yams," Annie said gently.

"Yams," he repeated, with the reverence of a child who just discovered something sacred.

Annie gave him a small extra scoop, and Finn leaned into her side with a quiet "thank you" that made something soft bloom in my chest.

Across the table, Johanna had stolen Haymitch's cider when he wasn't looking. She took a dramatic sip and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

"Your cooking's gotten better, Mellark," she said, licking a bit of glaze off her thumb. "Almost makes me wish I lived next door."

Peeta smiled. "You say that every time."

"Still hasn't invited me to move in," Johanna shot back.

Effie dabbed at her mouth delicately with a napkin. "Because you'd leave axe marks in the coffee table within the week."

"Only if it talked back to me," Johanna said with a grin, and Hunter giggled from under the table.

"Hunter," Gale said, peeking under the cloth, "are you eating or starting a rebellion down there?"

A tiny hand emerged with a piece of bread, which promptly vanished again.

Claudine rolled her eyes. "If you let him eat like a cave squirrel, he'll act like one."

"I'm just testing the structural integrity of the table," Hunter's voice piped up. Everyone laughed.

Peeta reached over and squeezed my hand gently. "Okay?"

I nodded. "Better than okay."

It wasn't loud in the way city gatherings used to be, but it was full. 

Full of warmth, of people I loved, of shared stories and ridiculous jokes. 

The ache in my chest, the one that had lived there so long I'd almost stopped noticing it, felt like it was finally giving up the fight.

I looked around the table.

Effie and Haymitch sat closer now than they used to. 

Gale and Claudine had found a rhythm, too. They weren't perfect, but they didn't try to be. 

She teased him without biting, and he took it with a smile most of the time. Their kids were wild and happy and loved.

Annie caught my eye, and I gave her a little nod. She returned it, her hand resting gently on Finn's curls.

Peeta leaned toward me. "You want dessert?"

"I think if I eat another bite, I'll fall asleep at the table."

He chuckled. "It's just honey cake."

"With candied nuts and whipped cream," I reminded him. "Your definition of 'just' is skewed."

"I could make you a plate for later."

I looked at him—really looked—and felt something in me settle. "Yeah. That'd be nice."