The Hunger Games: Continued

Much I Do's

Katniss' POV

Everything is so tragically wonderful.
After all the blood and loss, here we are.

We are damaged, and we are beautiful.
I am ready to give myself up after being only one for so long.

I do.
Many I do's.

⸻

In the crowd: my mother. Sorrowful, sunken, but smiling anyway.
In the crowd: Gale. Unforgiven, unforgotten. But still, old friend, I am glad to see your face.
In the crowd: Annie and her son — forgiving, understanding, hauntingly familiar.
In the crowd: Effie, Johanna, Cressida, Pollux, Plutarch, Beetee.
Hello, old friends. Hello.

By my side, my arm hooked through Haymitch's. Giving away something no one ever truly had is a challenge, but if anyone should do it, it's him.

The dress is plain white lace with a long trail — Effie's doing. Beautiful, but not Capitol-beautiful. This is me, simple and whole.

The bouquet trembles in my hand as we face the doors of the Justice Building. When they open, there will be no turning back. When they open, there will be family and friends, Effie's flowers, and at the end of the aisle: Peeta.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Haymitch nudges me.

"I think so," I breathe. "A little nervous."

"You don't say," he laughs. Then softer: "Sweetheart... I think this might be the best decision you've ever made."

I smile. He's probably right.

"Any last advice?" I smirk.

"Don't run off." His eyes catch mine, suddenly serious. "I mean it."

I won't.

One, two, three — the door creaks open. Left, right. Left, right. Smiles from the guests, but my eyes fix only on the boy at the end.

My future. My love. My everything.

Peeta smiles sheepishly, beautiful and boyish in his suit. A primrose sits in his pocket, his cheeks rosy. For a moment, I mirror his giddiness.

This is it.

Haymitch lets me go. I walk the last few steps on my own. Shaking, but steady. Don't run off.

Peeta leans forward, whispers: "You okay?"

"Yes. Never better." My voice trembles, but I mean it.

"You look beautiful." His smile softens, and my nerves ease.

⸻

"Peeta Mellark, do you take Katniss Everdeen to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." His eyes never leave mine.

"And do you, Katniss Everdeen, take Peeta Mellark to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." Without hesitation.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Peeta kisses me. The crowd cheers. Nothing has ever been so perfect.

Mrs. Mellark. Katniss Mellark.

⸻

The Toasting

Old District Twelve tradition: bread and fire.

We sit before the coal fire in our living room, guests gathered around. Peeta holds a slice of bread on a long fork, places my hand over his, and together we lower it into the flames. When it toasts, we blow gently, split it, share.

Our guests cheer. My mother weeps.

I kiss Peeta softly. But with all these eyes on us, I ache to pull him away. To lay in bed and kiss him as much as I want. Judging by his look, he feels the same.

⸻

The Guests

Haymitch pours drinks. Peeta offers cakes. I mingle.

Gale approaches. My heart sinks. Life was easier without him.

"Congratulations," he says.

"Thank you. It's... been a while."

"Katniss, I'm sorry. For everything. For breaking what we had—whatever that was." His eyes are soft, but I can't accept it.

"Do you really think now is a good time?"

"When is a good time?"

"There never will be, Gale. I can't be your friend. I'll always be part of your past. But I can't be your friend. Don't you see?"

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Go back to Two. Fall in love. Get married. Be happy. Leave the past alone. I'm happy with Peeta. I want you to find that too."

He nods slowly. "Alright. Just... know how sorry I am."

"I do."

⸻

Peeta's POV

The firelight glows. Haymitch and Effie chatter beside me. Katniss smiles across the room. Love and reunion fill the night.

I try not to think about the empty seats where my family should be.
I try not to think about Gale's expression when he speaks to her.

Go home, Gale. Go home so I can be alone with my wife.

"Peeta?"

Her mother. She approaches quietly.

"Mrs. Everdeen," I greet.

"Thank you," she says, voice low, "for saving my Katniss. She'd be lost without you."

"I guess it goes both ways," I answer.

"When her father died, I failed her. I couldn't give her affection. She grew up without it. But now—now she looks at you differently. You've broken her walls. She's given herself up completely. She loves you. You know that, don't you?"

"I do."

She embraces me. "Take care of her. You're the only one she'll let."

I nod. I will.

⸻

Katniss' POV

I crouch on the floor beside Annie and her boy, Fin.

"He looks so much like his father," I whisper.

"More every day," she says softly.

"I'm sorry, Annie. For Finnick—"

She takes my hand. "Don't be. He sacrificed himself. He died for what he believed in."

"But would he have, if he knew you were pregnant?" My throat burns.

"I don't know. But Katniss, you don't believe in what ifs. What is, is. What will be, will be."

"Alright," I whisper.

"Today isn't the day to dwell. You and Peeta—be happy. Don't worry about me. Perhaps one day you'll have children of your own."

I glance at Fin. Perhaps not, I think.

⸻

The End of the Night

At last, guests drift away. I hug my mother. Effie. Even Gale. Haymitch squeezes my shoulder before leaving.

The door closes. Silence.

Peeta leans his head against the wood, sighs. "It was lovely. But the whole time I just wanted to be alone with you."

"Me too." I take his face in my hands. "So I'm your wife now, huh?"

"It sounds strange when you say it out loud." He grins.

"Katniss Mellark," I whisper. "It sounds strange. But I love it."

I kiss him long and deep, then lead him to bed.