Sing for Me

501 21 10
                                    

Mother was out hunting, and I hadn't wanted to go with her. Father asked if I wanted to bake with him, but kneading the dough was really hard for me. He said that my muscles weren't strong enough yet.

"Why?"

"Because you're still a little girl," he explained. "When you get bigger and older, you'll be super strong."

"Really?" I asked him.

"Of course! Want to try again?"

"No, I'm not good at it." I slouched in my chair.

"Ivy, don't slouch." Father started to kneed the dough again, and looked at Gray to make sure he was okay. "Gray? Gray, what're you doing down there?" he asked playfully.

"Build!" my baby brother shouted, grinning madly. He threw a wooden block at the tower he was making, and it tumbled onto his blanket. "Uh oh!"

Father frowned. "Yes. Uh oh," he said, looking confused and sad at the same time.

"Daddy?" I asked quietly. He turned to me. "Why're you-"

"It's nothing, Ivory," he said quickly, almost harshly, and looked down at his soon-to-be-bread. "Do you want to put it on the pan?"

"Okay," I agreed, and got back up on the stool. It made my head just reach my father's shoulder. Carefully, I lifted the dough onto the pan and let him take it to the oven.

He shut the oven, her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

"Daddy, Can I go outside to play?" I asked him, waiting for an answer. But he only stood there, gripping the table with his giant flour covered hands. "Daddy? Father?"

"No, wait for your mother to come back home," he said immediately. He sat on the chair next to mine, the seat creaking with his weight.

I nodded, disappointed, and fiddled with the pin I had found in my parents' room. The little bird in the center was so intricate, it could have been real.

"What are you doing, Ivy?" Father asked gently, guilt from his previous words heavy in his voice.

"I don't know," I muttered. "Just wonder what this was-"

"What're you doing with that?!" he shouted, snatching the pin out of my hands. I was so shocked, I couldn't cry. Even Gray was stunned, watching our father above us, our eyes wide. "Where did you get this?" he demanded. "Ivory Everdeen-Mellark, where in the world-"

He was cut off by Mother, who was walking in through the front door. "What happened?" she whispered, her eyes flickering between us three. "Peeta is that-"

"Yes," he answered her, his eyes shut tight. "Did you leave this out on purpose?"

Gray began to cry.

"Of course not," she muttered, picking my brother up from the floor and cradling him in her arms. His wails pierced the morning air. "How-"

"Ivy was playing with it." His eyes were open now, and he dropped the pin onto the table. He knelt in front of me, lighting brushing his fingertips over my ankles. I tried not to swing my feet. "Ivy, listen to me. Where did you find that pin?"

I was scared that if I spoke, the tears welling in my eyes would fall. "I-I was in your room."

"When?"

"Yesterday," I whispered. A single tear fell, and after that my body shook. "I'm sorry, Daddy, I didn't know, I didn't know!"

"I know, Sweetheart," he shushed, and took me into his arms. "It's okay. I'm sorry, Sweetheart, I'm sorry."

He lifted me up from the chair, and I closed me eyes. I knew he was taking me to my room - where else could we be going? But when cool air rushed past my bare arms, I knew we were outside.

He set me down, and we were in the Meadow. "Go on," he said, speaking low. "It's okay. You wanted to play didn't you?"

I had forgotten all about playing. "Make me a flower necklace? I-I'll make one for you..." I tugged at a nearby weed.

"Oh, I think you should teach me," he said quietly. I plopped down onto the soft grass, and I worked. I assumed he was watching me, but when I looked up, he was gazing at the horizon. "Daddy?"

"Shh, Ivy," he whispered. His eyes closed, and his blond hair rose with a soft breeze.

"Daddy, will you sing for me?"

"I'm not very good at singing," he whispered, his eyes still closed. "You should as your mother."

"But she always sings to me."

"Are you saying you don't like her singing?"

"No!" I said. "I just want to know what your singing sounds like."

He chuckled, and looked down at me. "All right - just for you, Sweetheart."

Father took a deep breath, and sang, almost whispering.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when you awake, the sun will rise.

He smiled at the sky.

Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, A moonbeam ray,

Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.


And I thought it sounded beautiful.

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