#because he likes that about her. you can always trust cato to be open and straightforward with you

[ruvviks]

‘I’ll fuck you up,’ Cato spat before she could stop herself, her voice hoarse as it left her lips— words scraping past raw throat and it caused her to cough, the raspy noise echoing through the room. ‘I don’t doubt that for a second.’ A pause, as Vitali Dobrynin reached into his pocket and took out a key, then reached for Cato’s wrist and— respectfully keeping his hands to himself— freed her from her restraints. ‘Cato Wu,’ he said, grabbing a chair from the side of the room and setting it down next to the surgery bed while Cato slowly sat up a second time, carefully now, allowing the dizziness to settle before she moved any further. ‘How’d you know my name?’ ‘I have my ways.’ ‘Right— fixer.’ ‘Do I sense contempt?’ Cato sucked in her cheeks and raised her hand, mockingly putting her thumb and the tip of her index finger a mere millimeter apart. ‘Thiiis much. Pinky promise.’

taglist (opt in/out)

@nistarot, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @mojaves;

@shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption, @ncytiri;

@calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @faithchel, @radioactiveshitstorm, @strafethesesinners;

@fashionablyfyrdraaca, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian, @estevnys, @devilbrakers;

@aezyrraesh, @carlosoliveiraa, @adelaidedrubman, @fromgotham, @wardenevka;

@samuraifics

[twobraincellkentwell]

Edge Of Seventeen

[A Game Of False Fates]

Part One

Series Masterlist Part Two

Summary: Clio's first year as a mentor was always supposed to be easy; lapping up attention in the Capitol and learning the ropes of securing sponsorships. She was never supposed to be helping her sister through the ins and outs of the arena, but what's done is done. She'll just have to make sure the nation is ready for their second Kentwell sister in succession.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the nature of content in some of the chapters. Not really any warnings relevant for this chapter. Maybe the threat of stabbing?

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hello hello, I've finally got around the posting the first chapter of book 2, which is technically a prequel but I prefer my order because I just love building suspense. Friendly reminder that this is a Cato fic so obviously I'm not going to be subjecting my mans to the dogs (I'm not that cruel), and so the name of the male tribute is completely made up but also somewhat developed (you'll see ;) )

Second reminder to read book one (A Game Called Revenge) first for the intended order.

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3rd of April 74PD

"The tributes representing District Two in the seventy-fourth Hunger Games are..." The district mayor says slowly, watching as every academy member hangs on his every word and the parents of the potential tributes each wait impatiently for the decision. "Ebony Stein and Ajax Dumont."

Cheers fill the square as the chosen volunteers walk to the front of the plaza to shake hands with the mayor after he pats them both on the back. Ebony looks confused, the seventeen year old failing to hide the bewilderment of being selected on her face as she looks between the line of twenty girls and the automated scoreboard above her. In each of her trials, the young girl has placed second and the board providing a summary of the trials also has her sitting in second, only behind the fifteen year old Clove Kentwell. The same fifteen year old who is staring daggers into Ebony's head as she takes in the praise she is surrounded with. Ajax, on the other hand is smiling ear to ear and his father can be seen with his hands in the air celebratorily. The young children in the temporarily erected stands are clapping for their volunteers whilst the mayor speaks about the two tributes who have the potential to bring the victory home from District Two for the third year running. No one mentions the scoreboards whilst the two tributes choose their mentors for their last three months of training. To no one's surprise, Ajax chooses Brutus but doesn't fail to mention that he wants Cato to help him and Ebony chooses Enobaria. The expressions worn on the line of the unselected make it evident that this year, as with every other year in the past twenty, someone will try to take out the volunteers so that they can be replaced. "You may return to your homes, the Academy will remain open for those of you who live in the outskirts of the district but I encourage you to spend time with your families if you can."

As the lines file out, Clio watches out of the corner of her eye as her sister stands to the side of the plaza to wait for her and after excusing herself from the various district officials, she approaches. "Clove..."

"I placed first!" She declares in frustration, one hand pointing harshly in the direction of the scoreboard. "I thought you and Enobaria wanted me to continue what you started."

"Of course we do, but it's not always the worst thing to wait another year. Trust me, Enobaria always overrides the scoreboard for a reason."

Clove rolls her eyes as she retorts, "but I'm not in love with Ajax so it's not like it matters to me who I volunteer alongside."

"Ajax has been waiting to volunteer for three years." Clio reminds her, hoping that making a demonstration of the boy's patience will help her sister snap out of her anger; she hopes that refreshing Clove's memory of the fuss the boy kicked up when he wasn't chosen last year will help her realise that having to wait isn't the end of the world. But she also understands how she is feeling, remembering back to two years ago when she threw heated words at Enobaria after the mentors decided to switch up the partnerships and send Cato into the arena with Thalia instead of her. Several of the other girls and boys who weren't selected stand beside them, clustered in small groups and surrounded by family.

"Clio, sweetie, I am so happy to see you," the Kentwell matriarch muses as approaches, her voice warm and light. The woman is beautiful as always but both sisters can easily detect the coldness in her eyes as she tries to bring her eldest daughter into a hug. "You didn't come around on your birthday, you must still be too busy for little old me."

Her words, to the outsiders around them, seem lighthearted and teasing but Clio knows better. She was putting on a show to the other prominent families. The truth is, Clio hasn't spoken to either of her parents in the two months since her victory tour; only conversing with them once or twice since she returned from the arena, yet here she was casting the same old doubts that shrinks Clio back to the little girl would refuse to use up her homestay days at the academy or hiding in her childhood bedroom for afternoons at a time in hopes of not seeing her parents. "We have to go," Clio says as she looks into her mother's eyes. She wonders if she has ever loved her at all, or if she has always been just a means to receive glory and fame within the district and all of Panem.

"She's supposed to be sleeping at home tonight." Her mother addresses Clove indirectly, her lips tightening as her eyes bore into Clio's.

"We have to go." Clove repeats her sister's words, head barely turning in her mother's direction.

"She said that already." Their mother snaps as the façade falls from her face, turning her into the cold hearted bitch who raised two equally as stone cold girls with a thirst for blood and an innate need to prove themselves. She shrugs as if her daughters are inconveniencing her as she snaps her fingers to prompt them to answer.

Clove is the one to answer, watching carefully as her mother and older sister stare each other down. "We're going to go and train some more whilst the others head home. I'm going to stay at Clio's tonight but I'll have to come grab some of my clothes from my room."

"Well, don't let me stop you. Clio, darling, it would be nice if you could pay us a visit some time too."

Clio rolls her eyes as they walk the short distance to the training halls of the academy. Several of the younger children playing outside the building almost part like the sea to make room for Clio to walk through, as they have the past year. Being a victor has its perk, one of which is having access to the white cinder-block training facilities, and Clio leans towards the security system for it to scan her identity via the recognition of her retina. Flashing green, the magnet releases the heavy, stone door inside. The building is deserted as they walk through the corridors, an unnatural silence replacing the clang of weapons that are present on most days in the academy. They pass through the giant double doors hidden behind the stone staircase, leaving them to shut on their own behind them as the sisters walk straight into the top left hand corner of the centre; both scoffing at the large, professional portrait from her victory tour hanging on the wall. The gold foil of the crown reflects the lighting into the late afternoon as they each pick several blades from the rack beside the target. Without looking at the target, the two of them each throw a knife into the dummies opposite them, glancing over once they hear them hit the figures. Each landing dead centre, Clove's in the middle of the chest whereas Clio's hits the space between the eyebrows. Her signature. Clio's knife hit the target slightly earlier than her sister's but she isn't going to mention that. Not today.

"You didn't have to join me." Clio says. "I'm not going to be here long, I just needed to let out some of my anger after that conversation with our wonderful mother."

"I wanted to stay behind with you. There's no point going and speaking with Ebony yet. Now are we going to throw knives or just stand here?" Clove responds.

"I'd hate to show you up, but I suppose you could do with the practice." Clio smiles sarcastically when her sister rolls her eyes. She slings her knives at the target board. Each one they both throw hits the middle of their respective targets precisely.

"Hey!" The younger sister objects to Clio's words a few seconds after they sink in, turning towards her to ask her a question. "Instead of hogging my time, I want you to try and distract me while I throw."

Clio doesn't even blink at Clove's request. The two sisters have gone through the same routine every day for the past year because learning to ignore potential distraction is something Clove needs. Clio knows that behind the confident front her sister puts up, her emotions can sometimes leave her slightly off her game; which is a vital aspect of why Enobaria has decided that she needs another year of training before entering the arena. She'll be more than ready by the time the Quarter Quell rolls around. Following her sister's instruction, Clio walks to the side of the throwing station, standing to the left of the dummy that is Clove's target for the next hour, watching her sister launch the knives directly into the centre over and over again. Now in her line of sight, Clio removes the patched jacket from around her upper body and waves it in front of the target.

Clove's concentration wavers for just a moment, her brow furrowing as she registers the distraction. Clio continues to twirl the jacket, the bright red hues dancing through the air in a vibrant contrast to the monotonous black and white of the training room; as the atmosphere hums with the rhythmic swish of the knives and the dull thuds of them finding their mark on the dummies. Just as she raises another knife, poised for the next throw, Clio shouts a loud interjection. The sound catches Clove's attention just as she lets go of the knife, and the weapon hits to the right of the centre, causing Clove to curse.

"Hey, it would've still been more than enough for a kill." Clio reminds her when she recognises the scowl on her sister's face, moving to stand in front of the target and lifting her arms above her head, connecting her hands to make a gap for Clove to aim at. "Throw it again."

Clove throws the knife directly into the space between Clio's head and her hands, landing just centimetres above her ponytail pressed against the target. She knows that Clove would never throw the knife at her face. Her aim is far too good to actually kill her. And it's not like she wouldn't catch it anyway. Okay maybe I wouldn't catch it, Clio laughs to herself, but I'd at least I would see it coming and be able to move. 

"Now come on," Clio laughs as she pulls the knife out from the space above head. "I've got a birthday meal to have."

Clove sighs but places the knives back on the weapons rack. "I better go and collect my stuff from mum and dad."

"I have stuff you can use." Clio nudges her sister as they leave the academy's training facility, trying to swerve them in the direction of Victor's Village.

"No offence, Clio." Clove starts with a laugh, "but the twelves could fit into your clothes. I'd much rather be comfortable in my own stuff."

Clio relents, allowing Clove to steer them back towards the road which leads them to their parent's house. The walk down the cobbled stone paths of the richer area of District Two's capital, past all the white stone houses and perfectly crafted gardens. Their neighbours stand at the corner of the street, waving enthusiastically to the sisters as they walk and causing Clio to have to craftily avoid conversation by quickly explaining that they're visiting their parents for a little while and promising to return if they're still speaking once they are finished. Satisfied with her answer, the neighbours allow them to continue down the street until the familiar sight of lavender that edges the border of her parent's land. They walk up the stone steps and push the door open slowly, careful not to slam or rattle the door frame so as not to anger their parents any more than necessary. The scent of pinewood candles fills their noses as they walk through the foyer and begin to head towards the staircase when a shout comes from the living room. "Clove!"

Clove steps backwards off the first stair and follows the sound of her dad's voice into the living room; Clio following a few paces behind. As they enter they find their parents relaxing on the couch whilst a trashy Capitol provided television programme plays in the background.

"Dad." Clove says. "What's up–"

"Clove Sevina Kentwell." Their father bellows her full name, still leaning against the couch with his arms stretched across the back. "I honestly cannot believe you. I can't believe that after everything we've talked about in the past year, you continue to disappoint us."

"I don't know what you're talking about, dad. I placed first in the trials, I'm not sure what else I could have done to have them pick me."

"Something is missing if the mentors don't think you're good enough to be selected. I thought we went over this?" Their dad's worse is hoarse and disgusted as he spits the words out, turning to look at his youngest daughter.

"I'm– I'm sorry, dad!" Clove stutters slightly under the scrutiny of her parents.

"Are you lazy, Clove? Tell me, are you lazy in training?"

"No!" The youngest Kentwell protests, "I try my hardest everyday, I thought that placing first would prove that."

"It did nothing but suggest that you won't ever be ready to volunteer. Your skills are slipping, don't think we didn't notice you were off on three of your throws. We left after that but I bet your performance with the spears was just as mediocre, worse probably. Have you even been attending your training?" Their father shouts whilst their mother nods her head in agreement, silently judging her daughter.

Clove sniffles, blinking back the tears that are threatening to spill past her waterline and hoping that neither of her parents would catch her emotions and call her disgusting for having them. "I have, of course I have!"

"You're not good enough Clove, you need to do better!" Her mum voices her opinions for the first time. "You'll never be able to win if you can't convince them to let you volunteer."

"There must be something wrong with you if your own sister didn't give you the vote of confidence." Their dad hisses.

"There's nothing wrong with her." Clio snaps, making her parents turn their head to look at her standing in the door frame. "I don't have the power to make all the decisions. I only won last year, so my words don't carry much weight."

"Who do you think you're talking to?"

"I'm talking to the people who have done nothing but treat my sister like shit ever since I won. Forget me, I don't care what you've said to me but don't try telling her that I don't believe in her." Clio says, the calmness of her voice scaring her sister slightly. She reaches into the pocket of her jacket and throws a small bundle of bills onto the coffee table. "Take my money and lay off her."

"Treating her like shit?" The man scoffs. "We're trying to toughen her up. What do you think we've been doing your whole lives? It worked well enough with you, you're a victor right now because of everything we did to help you and so you have no right to speak to us that way."

Clio chuckles darkly as she looks up at the ceiling. "When I first started at the academy, all I ever wanted to do was make the two of you proud, but you know what? I'm fucking done now. This is exactly why I didn't bother coming to visit you on my birthday. Do you even have any idea how old we are?"

"I– Nine– no, eighteen." Her mother stammers.

"Seventeen yesterday, mother," Clio rolls her eyes. "And Clove is only fifteen."

"Fifteen is plenty old enough to become a victor." Their father chooses to ignore Clio's admission of their ages as he instead focuses on the topic of Finnick Odair's winning age yet again. As their father turns to face the television screen once more, Clio nudges her sister and motions for her to quickly escape the room so she can head upstairs and pack a bag with enough for a few nights stay in Victor's Village.

"You're supposed to love and care for us yet all you wish for is another victor. I'm not your child, I'm just a paycheck." Clio picks up the wad of cash from the coffee table, swatting away her father's hand as he tries to grab her wrist. To prevent her from removing her money no doubt. "I don't owe you anything, fuck you."

As she reaches the front door, Clove appears at the bottom of the stairs, with a small duffel bag in her hand; half zipped up and jumper sleeves spilling out over the sides. Ignoring her parents' shouts, Clio grabs her sister by the hand and pulls her out of the door and down the stone steps, through the lavender bushes and they run across the cobbled stone paths that lead them towards Victor's Village. Once they pass the dark, wrought iron gates at the bottom of the little village, they run down to the eleventh house in the cul-de-sac, immediately pushing open the door to Clio's new home. Inside, Clove heads straight upstairs to claim the large spare bedroom that she usually sleeps in by throwing her duffel bag onto the mattress whilst her older sister steps into her kitchen. There's a cinnamon roll with a candle placed on the middle of her kitchen island, and she laughs to herself before realising that everything has been put neatly away and that her sister hasn't joined her in the kitchen. A small shuffling noise from the direction of the living room catches her attention and she instinctively pulls out her knife from the heel of her boots, poising herself for an attack if necessary.

Slowly she walks out of her kitchen and through the open frame leading her towards the sofa. The room is in complete darkness but before she can flick the lights on, a chorus of voices call out "surprise!"

The dagger in her left hand flies across the room, embedding itself into the stone wall at the far end of the living room, and then the lights flash on and she is greeted by several familiar faces who finally pop out from around the room. Cato, Clove, Brutus, Enobaria as well as Cato's mum and sister gather around the couch, each with a bright smile. Clio can see there are two huge balloons shaped 17 and red and gold party streamers adorn the book shelves and walls.

"I told you this would happen." Clove laughs, running to engulf her sister in a hug. "Never try and surprise Clio."

"We're just lucky we didn't stand up any earlier." Brutus chuckles, waving away the little concern in the room.

"Did you organise all of this?" Clio narrows her eyes jokingly at Cato once she realises what is going on.

"I had five helpers but most of it was me." He replies, walking to her side and allowing her to wrap her arms around him. "It's not big and I wanted to do this yesterday." He directs a glare at Enobaria. "But I promise that we'll go all out next year for eighteen."

"How did you manage to not tell me about this? You tell me everything." Clio sighs in disbelief, shaking her head before looking up to meet his eyes. "How long have you had this up your sleeve?"

"Hardest two weeks of my life." He teases, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Don't forget that they kept it from you too."

"You're all amazing. I don't know how all of you kept me in the dark for that long." Clio compliments, for once feeding their egos and thinking to herself about how they better savour this moment because compliments from her don't come often. "But what's so special about seventeen?"

"It's your first birthday as a victor." Enobaria explains, appearing from behind Clio and pulling her away from Cato and into her own hug. "It's the first year since I chose you that you actually have more birthdays guaranteed."

"Oh, I was always going to win." Clio laughs, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Enobaria shakes her head but a small laugh escapes her lips as she squeezes Clio a little tighter for a second before letting her leave her grasp and turn back to the others. Clio gives everyone in the room a short hug, thanking them all again before she approaches Cato again. "Seriously, is all this because it's my first victor's birthday? You had yours in the Capitol, didn't you?"

He nods. "I did but I thought you'd much prefer to share a cinnamon roll with your sister than be surrounded by all those people again. Besides, we've spent the last ten years watching the tribute trials on your birthday, and then competing in them so it's not like we could just leave to party, unfortunately."

"I'm not sharing the cinnamon roll." Clio protests quickly before agreeing with him. "You're right, I would. I think I can get over my celebrations being a day late if they're always like this."

Part Two

[womanlives]

No, I know that, Katniss opens her mouth to say, but the words stick in her throat. Like it’s swollen shut all of a sudden — from hundreds of tracker jacker stings that’ll leave her permanently disfigured, even in death — like it knows she’s wrong. Because she didn’t. Not really. She had ideas, sure, but was always too busy hunting squirrels or pheasants to really sit and think about them.

A punishment.

Her eyes sting. Katniss nods. Her lips press together. She wants to cry, but she can’t. God, and why not? It’s Madge. Madge is — Madge is — Madge is safe.

This, in itself, is a powerful revelation. Since she left the arena, very little things are safe anymore. She doesn’t know how to describe it. (Because, she thinks bitterly, maybe it’s something sixteen-year-old girls ought not to know how to describe.) The closest thing she can think of is the day the mine exploded. The day her father died. Then her mother stopped talking, and that was the first crack. Not safe. Katniss could never — can never — trust her fully after that.

Haymitch. Haymitch isn’t safe — never was safe — because he is wounded and so is she and speaking is a slap in the face from the exact thing they’re trying to hide. Gale. Gale isn’t safe because sometimes he will remember when she kissed Peeta in the Games, and his eyes will cloud over in the way they do when Katniss has done or said something wrong. Peeta. Peeta isn’t safe because whenever Katniss looks at him, she’s filled with guilt. Because he deserves the sun, and sky, and everything above and below. So she can’t even bring herself to say hello. But Madge —

Katniss can just be.

And right now she’s sad and scared and second-guessing everything and that’s okay, because it’s Madge. And this is the woods, and they’re alone — save for the birds that sing, high and clear, in the trees. So she lets herself say it, and lets herself feel it, when she turns to Madge, and confesses, “I think I’ll be paying it forever.” Again an overwhelming urge to bury her face in Madge’s shoulder and cry; again the resolve to resist.  

Katniss rubs at her cheek with her sleeve. Her eyes find Madge’s. There’s something uncharacteristically raw in them. Shame. Guilt, and ugliness. Mostly shame. “Did you watch them?” The Games. Did you watch me kill Marvel? Drop the hive on Glimmer’s head. Shoot Cato straight through?  

Please, God.

“Are you s — sure you still want to be my friend?”

@forgaeven cont. from here

[catohphm]

A True Friend for a Werewolf

Hi everyone, here’s the third in a series of drabbles that shed some light on my MC, Cato’s relationships with the canon characters of HPHM. I’ve written pieces for Talbott and Badeea. It’s Chiara’s turn now. For a while, we didn’t know what house she was in. She was revealed to be Hufflepuff in the sixth year. Chiara’s life and personality are defined by her biggest secret: she’s a werewolf. Very mysterious, she is. But unlike Talbott, she also faces social rejection and shame if her status is disclosed, not just government interference. In time, Cato grows to build a very close friendship with Chiara based on trust and a vow to look out for each other and keep their secrets safe. Just beware, this post is longer than the others as I provided some background and more details to help build the foundation of their bond. Enjoy!

Chiara Lobasca was born to an affluent family. Her father was an arithmancer and her mother was extremely skilled with memory charms. Due to her knowledge of the spells, she was employed by the Ministry as an Obliviator, responsible for solving violations of the secrecy laws by wiping the memories of muggles who were aware of the incident, as well as knowledge of magic in general. 

As a young child, Chiara ran afoul of the infamous werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. She was bitten by him and became a werewolf too. He attempted to recruit her for his army, which sought to take over the wizarding world as revenge for oppression against their kind. Fortunately, her parents were able to stop him and send him packing before their daughter could be influenced by him. Chiara, aware that she got lycanthropy from her encounter with the cruel Greyback, was extremely scared that he had gotten very close toward taking her away from home and doing who knows what to her. Sheltering their daughter, they chose to keep it private that she was a werewolf, knowing of the large negative stigma and laws that would make it hard to live with her condition. 

The Lobascas managed to live stable lives for some time afterwards, but the expenses of procuring Wolfsbane potion to help Chiara get through her transformations put strain on the family’s finances. She eventually befriended a neighbor named Selina, who wasn’t intimidated by hearing she was a werewolf. They were good friends until the former saw Chiara after she transformed. Selina was horrified and never talked to her again out of fear. Her memories were wiped by Chiara’s mum so she wouldn’t have to live haunted by the memories. It was from this incident that Chiara became a more guarded person, being very cautious over who she let into her circle.

She was sorted into Hufflepuff upon arriving at Hogwarts. Her secret meant her life and she understood that if it went out, she’d be in great danger. Chiara’s greatest fear was the fact she was a werewolf becoming known at school. Inside though, she remained the sweet, goodhearted individual she was before she was infected with lycanthropy. Between classes, she would help out Madam Pomfrey with work in the Hospital Wing, her dream of becoming a healer. It was there she first met Cato.

While Chiara found the Ravenclaw boy to be a kind soul who valued people, they remained only acquaintances for a while because of her previous experience with her former friend. They said “Hi!” or even waved to each other when they passed in the halls, but Chiara tried to avoid conversation as much as possible. Cato wondered why she was like this, but he had a feeling that she had something she didn’t want to share, so he respected her choice. It was early into their third year that they got closer.

Cato, Penny and Chiara were all in Herbology when a boggart emerged from its hiding spot. It took the form of a werewolf. Hearing Penny’s shouts, Chiara ducked under a table and fled from the greenhouse when the boggart was repelled. Her memories of Selina finding out she was a werewolf were triggered by the incident. As a result, she became less like her usual self and isolated herself more from her peers. Both they and her professors caught on this and grew worried. Penny was concerned too, and she sought her best friend Cato to try to speak to her roommate and find out what’s going on. 

He was advised by Penny not to mention her to Chiara, as she is worried that her encounter with the boggart may create a rift between them. Cato was worried too, as he hadn’t seen Chiara in the hospital wing much after the ruckus in the greenhouse. He first questioned Madam Pomfrey on her whereabouts. She suggested he look in a cupboard down the hallway she uses to store medical potions and other supplies separate from Snape’s classroom so that students wouldn’t touch them during classes.

Cato went to the cupboard, quietly muttering "I hope you're in there, Chiara." A door opens and her, recognizing him by his voice, ushers him in and quickly shuts the door. Chiara explains that she has to tell him something, needing someone outside of her house that she can be able to trust with the information. He learns of a rumor that she overheard about a first year who was attacked by a mysterious white creature in the Forbidden Forest which was believed to be a werewolf. The victim is believed to be a Gryffindor named Pippa MacMillian as she was reported absent from Astronomy the night the attack took place. Hearing this made Chiara desperate. Afraid of what could happen if people started thinking she was the creature, Chiara wanted to tell somebody she knew who could be able to help her solve the mystery.

Together, she and Cato sought out Pippa, who couldn’t recall anything the moment she was attacked in the woods. With the help of a memory potion, she was able to explain that wasn’t sure if her assailant was actually a werewolf. Claw marks on the arm prompted the assumption it was a lycanthrope. Chiara was very relieved to hear this. The three of them dispelled the rumors with Penny’s help, who was also happy to learn the good news. Cato and Chiara became friends after the case was solved. They talked more, especially when they were assigned together in classes such as Herbology. She was still careful with how deep the conversations got, but entrusted Cato with her secret, knowing she could depend on him.

Eventually, their bond would be put to the test. Chiara introduced Cato to an acquaintance of hers, another werewolf named Remus Lupin. She revealed how she shared some of the wolfsbane potion she received from the school to aid in his plight. Lupin was poor and had to keep moving and changing jobs every once in a while to prevent people from finding out he was a werewolf. He stopped accepting wolfsbane from Chiara as it was now time for him to keep moving on. Before leaving, he reminded her that the full moon would be out that night.

That night, Cato and Chiara were playing gobstones, where they opened up a bit more about each other’s lives. She quickly left after remembering Lupin’s warning about the Full Moon. Urgently looking for a safe place to transform, a greatly worried Cato followed her to the Training Grounds. She was about to tell him to run. But it was seconds before she shifted into her werewolf form. Instead, she told him to not let her hurt anyone. As she transformed right in front of Cato, he covered his eyes with his hands, tripping and falling on the ground. When he looked back up, Chiara was now a large werewolf with white fur. She was menacing, but there appeared to be some hesitance in her motion. Cato pulled out his wand, got up and with it behind his back, he called out at her “This is not who you’re really like Chiara! Remember, you’re my friend! You can count on me!” Chiara pauses for a moment, halted by what he just said, but then becomes aggressive. He calls out “I’m sorry! I have to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or anyone, for you! Cato casts Flipendo but the jinx misses and the transformed Chiara strikes him, knocking him back to the ground. His arm is now hurting from the hard blow, but he remembers the Banishing Charm he had learned from Charms a few days ago. Teeth-clenched from the pain of his arm, Cato aims his wand at the werewolf as she closes in to him, his eyes now brimming with tears. He mutters out “Depulso” in a stressed, worried tone. A mass of bluish-white energy explodes from the tip of his wand, blasting the werewolf Chiara several feet away from Cato.

She gets back up on her feet and stares at Cato. A twinkle gleams across her eyes and she makes out a weak smile, before turning away and running back toward the Forbidden Forest to wait out the rest of the night. The morning after the fight, Cato joins Chiara in the artifact room to catch up on the night before. She, although surprised, thanks him for standing by her and not running away when she turned into a werewolf. She then explains why she was keeping her distance all this time, recalling the incident when her neighbor found out what she looked like as werewolf and asked her mum to Obliviate Selena so that she wouldn’t have to live in fear. Chiara was then reluctant to make friends as she didn’t want to harm others through her lycanthropy. Now confident enough to face her fears, she fully opens up to Cato. 

He presents her a photo he recovered from the Training Ground after the fight. It was a beautiful color photo of the sun setting over the Black Lake, with Hogwarts Castle in the foreground. Chiara lets Cato keep it as gratitude for his help, and tells him that Lupin gave it to her. The photo was taken by Lupin’s friend James Potter, both of whom were part of the Marauders during their years in school. Cato learns from Chiara that the message of the photo is “The morning will always come.” They immediately give each other a big hug, Cato still holding the photo in one hand. She remarks “This is for not giving up on me. Thank you, Cato!" He answers “Anything I can do for my friends. They’re like family to me.” Chiara then said “I’ll always be able to make it through even the darkest night, so long as I have the support of my friends.”

They were best friends after those events, and continued to be so well into adulthood. Eventually Cato would retire from the high-adventure lifestyle of curse-breaking, looking for a more stable job he enjoyed that could also support his wife Penny and their two sons. He was hired as a healer at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Working with Penny and Chiara, Cato and they would often reminisce about their past adventures in school and as young adults. He continues to keep the photo Chiara gave him back in Hogwarts as a token of their friendship.

[popculturebuffet]

Final Space: And Into The Fire Review or Now with 110% More Homoerotic Telepathy

Welcome  new and old to my first Final Space review! If you’ve never seen the blog before, and given this is the first “new” series i’ve covered as it come out in some time that’s probably quite a few of you, welcome. I’m Jake, I do recaps and reviews of various animated shows and comics, mostly just stuff I want to do, often on comission (5 dollars an episode if theres any episode of the first two seasons of this show or any episode of any other show you’d like tos ee me cover), or for my patreon patreon.com/popculturebuffet. And it is my utmost honor to add this show to my rotating roster of shows I cover as they come out. 

I friggin love Final Space. I was intrigued by it back when TBS released the animatics alongside Close Enough (Wth the two shows ironically finally together on HBO max as of earlier this month), for their doomed block. I heard a lot of good things about season 1.. and let it get away from me, not watching it till Season 2. But both seasons had more than enough to pull me in with intriguging characters, even greater jokes and a truly unique idea for a premise involving giant monsters, an edltrich god and lots of cookies. 

So while it took an extra year given Covid, I’m super friggin pumped to get into season 3 at long last after the hell of a cliffhanger, especially since ironically last night I saw Steven Yeun’s oscar nominated performance in “Minari”. Now i get to watch him play a cat teenager again too.. and in a few days Mark friggin Grayson. It’s a good week to be a fan of his is what i’m saying and a good week in general. 

Previously on Final Space Yo!: Since it’s been a year and while the series provides  a recap , I’m going to be doing these anyway so:

Our heroes finally got all 5 dimensional keys and freed Bolo, and in the process also freed Avacato from Invictus, the horrifying entity controlling final space. Meanwhile Tribore got Sheryl to stop being a selfish prick and she joined the team trying to be a better mother from now on. But freeing Bolo came at a high cost as Nightfall sacrified herself as the sixth key (KVN was natrually both Gary and Bolo’s first choice, but was inllegible. ) So we ended the season with our heroes entering Final Space and Gary reuniting with Quinn.... while Invictus loomed. So over a year later we finally get some answers so join me under the cut for spoilers, recaps, and homoerotic text ahoy. 

Something i’m doing since both the roster keeps changing.. and as I correctly guessed from the trailer, and the general tone of the promos for this season, that everyone won’t be all together all season.. or even in one piece.. i’ll be doing a silver age style roll call to let us know who all we have on the Team Squad for the episode Roll Call: Gary, Quinn, Avacato, Little Cato, Ash, Fox, KVN, HUE, AVA, Sheryl, Bolo, and Tribore

So we pick up right where we left off, Gary tearfully reuniting with Quinn, with Quinn wishing he hadn’t come for her, and Gary being Gary naturally having ignored that, and actually been more determined since that made it forbidden which made it extra tempting and him want to extra do it. God I missed this glorious idiot let me tell you. 

So things are quickly interrupted by invictus, who turns out to be a giant flaming head.. thing... and chases them and the crimson light, which has to start speeding with our heroes tethered to the outside, Quinn holding onto Gary. 

So we get one hell of a thrilling chase as the Crimson Light outspeeds the demon head and runs into two titans, but Bolo shows up to take out one, with Mooncake trying his dimension shattering blast thingy on Invictus.. and naturlaly g ven this is the big bad we need to show off how horrying they are, and it does NOTHING. But Gary catches his little buddy so we’re alright. 

Sheryl also shows off her badass bonafieds by LIGHTFOLDING THROUGH A TITAN... granted she still has some parenting skills to learn as “lightfolding while your son is hanging out the back through an edltrich god” really isn’t a motherly thing to do.. but neither is trying to murder your child several times or blaming him for how shitty your life turned out so ANYTHING is a step up for her. 

But.. it’s not enough. While she does manage to kill ONE the Crimson Light is too badly damaged to go on and we get two tragic deaths in one go... The Team Squad is forced to abandon the Crimson Light.. and AVA is too damaged to Upload into HUE. “I’m Sad” “For who?” “For you.. and for us. “ God damn Tom Kenny is amazing. You don’t need me telling you that, but sometimes you need a reminder. 

So our heroes end up on a desolate mystery world, stranded in final space with no ship, no suplies and no hope. The only thing to do now is survivie and hope they can continue the mission at some point. 

ONE MONTH LATER

Things have not gotten any better, as naturally , our heroes have only found weird cartoon eyed worms that regrow their heads when you bite them off. So while this means unlimited food, it’s also disgusting and Garry hates it. “This may be a head but it tastes like a butt”. Quinn and Tribore are with him and Quinn hasn’t been ready to talk about her experiences trapped in this hellscape and still isn’t but being a good dude, Gary dosen’t push her on it. Though the weird red veiny thing on her arm tells me maybe one of you should speed that up before she explodes or gets cronnenburgy. Just saying. I’ll also say i’m not huge on the one month time skip, as while I feel they probably have a reason for being that specific i’ts a bit TOO long and I question why have that long a period of a jump, not the longest but still long enough for things to happen with nothing changingin that time? Still it’s a minor nitpick in an otherwise fantastic episode so I can let it go, I just don’t get it. 

What we do get is some Gary Corpses dropping and Invictius puppeting them... i’m with gary that is bowel openingly scary. I also do like how despite the FAR more dire circumstances, they still get in the requisite shenanigans this series requires. I’ts not to the network mandated subplot levels where it distracts, but it’s enough to help ease the terror of the situation and isn’t around for situations like the opening where it really SHOULDN’T be. As the series always has when something big happens, the bollocks goes away. Once we’re in between we can get back to literal pissing contests, KVN leading a crowd to their deaths and HUE in a pimp hat like god intended. 

So yeah our heroes have to outrun the horrible horde of Gary’s, though Little Cato catches on something’s wrong as Tribore makes gary cary him as foreshadowing for later and Sends mooncake down to asssit. Our heroes escape.. but a cave in happens.

After the break, Gary wakes up confused with the party now split in two: Gary, Quinn, KVN, Tribore and HUE on one side and Avacato, Ash, Fox, Little Cato and Sheryl on the other. So Gary does the logical thing... and take his shirt off telling Avacato to feel him. 

I mean I didn’t even ship them before this scene but... Gary claims because of their bond he can telepahtically connect with Avacato. That’s normal Gary shenanigans.. except not only does he shrug off his girlfriend asking why they can’t do that.. but it WORKS. We have a scene of the two telepahtically talking in a wheatfield that is so homerotic I guarantee there only wasn’t the Careless Whisper sax because they couldn’t afford it.. or their saving it for later this season. Look sometimes you don’t ship a ship because you just.. dont’ care that strongly one way or another and sometimes you just need an incredibly gay scene to see the light. Same thing happened with Weblena same thing here. 

Fox also says “that was glorious to watch” same man. That was freaking art. So our heroes split up into three plots. As usual for me

Team Gary: So yeah... Triobore’s pregnant. No way to really softball into that. He’s been pregnant this whole time. So we get a stupid and mildly horrifying gross out sequence with Gary having to look Triobore in teh eyes and Quinn having to “uncork him”. Which is code for ... you know what i’m not going to say it. If you’ve seen the episode you know and if not your better off not visualizing it trust me. Point is this whole sequence is dumb and the worst part of the episode by far. And the series CAN do good gross out. While Olan Rodgers regrets it, the pissing contest was one of the funniest scenes of season 2, and managed to make a gross idea on paper actually pretty damn funny. This.. this is just “Haha males giving birth and tribore’s an asshole”. There’s no joke here just a .. plug. .. gah.. the vomit is rising let me tell you. 

We do get something good out of this nightmare, Tribore’s son who hatches as the army of gary’s dig their way in, Quanstranstro, who rapidly ages into a stylsih spanish speaking adult badass. He is fucking awesome and a great addition to the team and the sheer.. oddity of his birth is wonderful even if the actual birthing was not. Then the climax happens so before that. 

Team Avacato:

Avacato and Co come across a sleeping giant robot cyborg .. thingy. Naturally Fox wakes him up. Little Cato remains not suprised. It occelates between panicking over it’s legs being gone and amenisa and is pretty damn funny. It’s voiced by John Dimagio. But it gets serious as we find out nothing has ever made it out of final space, and things.. change the longer there there. And Quinn’s been there several months if not a year. Whuh oh. This part is much better both due to better jokes and plot advancment.. though again Quanstrano is still fucking amazing. 

Team Bolo: Bolo meanwhile returns and fights a titan, and has mooncake help him rather htan join the others, but looses, hitting the planet with his body.. I mean he might not get back up.. but the impact shatters the caverns and causes an explosion. Everyone but Gary, Quinn, KVN and HUE are MIA, as our remaining party find earth floating overhead. 

TO BE CONTINUED> 

Final Thoughts: A decent start to the season. Like I said the whole birthing sequence can die in a fire and reminds me of the terrible comedy subplots adult swim wanted grafted onto two episodes.. but otherwise it’s a tense stark opener that sets up the bleak tone while still keeping the series rediciulous shenanigans in tact. It’s the perfect welcome back after so long. I mean the gay telepathy alone would make it a winner. 

Next Time on This Blog: We dive into a little history with HIsteria. See you at the next rainbow. 

[kiddoryder]

Team Squad Fun Day

For my best friend @anitoonzforever hope you love the comission story I made you ^^

Gary was just looking at some news stuff on the computer. It was one of those rare times nothing in space is trying to kill them. He was actually graceful that for once him and his crew got a day off. Gary kept on looking on the computer until he saw a planet called Donetua and saw that the planet is opening  fair and it caused Gary to basically yell in excitement.”

 Gary - “Oh my god!! No way!!”

 All of that yelling causes everybody to come to the room where Gary is at. They saw him basically jumping up and down excited like a little kid. 

 Little Cato - “What is it, Thunder Bandit?”

 Gary - *excited* “There's a fair on this planet!”

 Trina - *confused*  “A fair?”

 Jemima - *confused* “What's that?”

 Gary - *surprised* “You don't know what a fair is?”

 Jemima - “Uncle Gary, up until I escaped, I never left the orphanage.”

 Trina - “I never to been to one either.”

 Little Cato - “Me neither.”

 Avocato - “Same.”

 Ash - “Well me and Fox did once. At least I think it was a fair.”

 Fox - “Yeah. We only were there to help Da-Clarence steal stuff. Do fairs involve rocket ships and death lasers?”

 Gary - “Uhh no.”

 Ash - “Then no. We have never been to a fair.”

 Gary “What?! You guys gotta be kidding me!”

 Jemima - “What do you mean, Uncle Gary?”

 Gary - “The fair is like one of the best places to be! It's like if a piece of heaven fell on earth and grew to show people its super awesome goodness.”

 Little Cato - “What do you usually do there?”

 Gary: *chuckles* “Oh where do I begin, Spider Cat? There is fun stuff like the athlete’s games, the Ferris wheel, roller coaster, bumper cars, prizes.”

 KVN - “Oh!! We can ride them together! Because Gary and I are best friends!”

 Gary - *push KVN away* “Get away from me you robotic demon devil!”

 Trina - “What about the food?”

 Gary - “The food is amazing there!”

 Jemima - “What do they have?”

 Gary - “Oh tons of great stuff! They got cotton candy, pizza, French fries, and many other stuffs!”

 Trina - “Sound good!”

 Little Cato - “Yeah. Makes me kind of hungry.”

 Jemima - *excited* “I wanna see it!”

 Fox - *excited* “Me too!!”

 Trina - “Why don’t  we go now? I mean there aren’t any evil guys to try and destroy us all.”

 Avocato - “That’s true. Who knows this could be a good day off?”

 Gary - “Exactly! This is like the golden ticket! A once in a lifetime trip to happy memory land!”

 Mooncake - “Chookity pok!”

 HUE - “I agree with Mooncake and Gary. This could sound fun. And with this new god like body, I can probably win lots of prizes.”

 Gary - “Then it’s settled. AVA, take us to Donetua!”

 AVA - “You got it Gary.”

 ()()()()()()()()()()()

 The Crimson Light speed up and make it to the fair. Gary is the first one to step out. His eyes widen in amazement: 

 Gary - *excited* “Come on, guys! Let's go!”

 Avocato - *chuckles* “ Slow down bud! Wait for us!”

 Jemima holds her father's hand. While she was amaze on the things the fair has, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. She has never seen so many people since her old home at the orphanage. 

 Jemima - *nervous* “You think it would be safe Daddy?”

 Avocato - *comforting* “I'm sure it is, baby. Gary wouldn't suggest it if it weren’t.”

 Trina - *look around* “It does look colorful.”

 Jemima - “And bright.”

 Little Cato - “There is a lot of people.”

 Avocato - “A ton of people so you guys better stay close to me, okay?”

 Jemima - “Okay Daddy.”

 Trina - “Sure thing.” 

 Little Cato - “You got it!”

 The Team Squad was walking around the fair. While they were close together, they saw Gary basically looking around and running. It was like watching a little kid who is excited to see Santa at the Mall. 

 Jemima - “Have you been to a fair before, Uncle Gary?”

 Gary - *nodding* “Yep. I loved them as a kid. My dad would take me here.”

 Avocato - “So what are we doing first?”

 Gary - “We can take baby steps. Since it all yours for the first time while I’m the ride master.”

 Jemima was looking around the fair. She keeps seeing rides like roller coasters, catapults, spinning rides and they all look too scary for her. Then Jemima sees a ride that looks interesting and not scary. 

 Jemima - “What's that, Uncle Gary?”

 Gary - Oh that's the merry go round!

 Jemima: There's horses on it! Can we go on its Daddy?

 Avocato - *smiles* “Sure honey!”

 Little Cato - “I'll ride with you, sis.”

 Trina - “Me too! It looks fun.”

 Ash & Fox - “Wait for us!”

 Fox - “I love horsy!”

 They head to the ride and Jemima & her brother pick out a beautiful horse. The horse was white with a gold mane design. Trina was on a black and white horse; Ash was on a pink and purple horse. Fox was on a brown horse with white spots on it. Fox got it and was able to sit on it despite his size and he was really excited. Jemima had a little trouble getting on her horse, but Little Cato lift her up to help her. 

 Little Cato: *holds his sister up* “Up you go.”

 Jemima - Thank you big bro!

 Little Cato smiles and climbs up to sit with his sister. At first the ride was doing anything, and they were confused. Fox was slightly bouncing in excitement and wanted the ride to go now.

 Trina - *confused* “So what does this thing do?”

 Gary - “It just goes around as the horses go up and down. It takes a few second to work.”

 Jemima - “Are you guys coming too?”

 Avocato - *shook his head no* “It's okay. We will watch.”

 Gary - “Besides, we need to take pictures of you kids!”

 Jemima and Little Cato smile as the ride begins to move. It surprised them at first, but then seconds later they began to enjoy it. 

 Jemima - “Whoa it's moving!”

 Little Cato - “Here we go!!”

 The ride began to move, and Jemima began to enjoy it. She never had fun like this in a long time. 

 Jemima - “Weee!!”

 Little Cato - “This is fun!”

 Fox - “This is the ride of my life!”

 They ride as the adult’s wave to the kids and take pictures. Gary smiled because he remembered the times, he would ride the Merry Go around with his Dad. It was one of his happiest memories. Even after his Dad died and burnt down his house, Gary would often sneak into the fair and go on the merry go around to relive those memories.

 Avocato: “I love seeing my baby girl and son so happy.”

 Gary - “Yeah it's so sweet.”

 Avocato - “This is the first time I've done anything like this. I mean the closest thing Little Cato and I did together was training. Sometimes I wish I can go back in time and act like a real father to him.”

 Gary - “Hey you are a real father to him. You took care of him and love him. Even died for him. That’s like ultimate dad love. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t do these kinds of things with him.”

 Avocato - *smiles* “Thanks man.”

 The kids have fun until the ride stops and they get off.

 Avocato - “Did you like that ride, sweetie?”

 Jemima - *happy* “Yeah! I like it a lot!”

 Little Cato - “It was pretty cool!! What other rides can we do next?”

 Trina - “Yeah! I got this awesome rush in my veins! It’s hard to ignore awesome rushes in veins.”

 Gary - “Well there are roller coasters.”

 Ash - “What are those?”

 Gary - A ride that goes up, down, and all around. It’s like a loop de loop of extreme movement.”

 Jemima - *scared* “Sounds scary.”

 Gary - “It's actually fun!”

 Avocato - *concerned* “Uh Gary? I think she might be too young for that kind of ride.”

 Gary - “Oh yeah good point. There's the Ferris wheel and that’s also one of my favorite rides.”

 Jemima - “What’s that?

 Gary - “It's like a big wheel that take you up and down.”

 Jemima - *nervously* “Is it safe?”

 Gary - “Oh totally. I rode on it all the time.”

 Avocato - “How about I go with you and Uncle Gary on the Ferris wheel while your brother goes with the others on the roller coaster?”

 Jemima - *happy* “Okay!”

 Little Cato - “Have fun Jemmy!!”

 Jemima - “Thanks! You are too.”

 The kids head to the roller coaster while Avocato and Gary  take Jemima to the Ferris wheel.

 Avocato - You ready baby?

 Jemima: *nods* Uh-huh!

 Gary - “Trust me you will love it. It’s also one of my favorite rides.”

 Avocato - “Is every ride your favorite ride?”

 Gary - “Not all of them. The catapult tends me freak me out sometimes.”

 They walk up to the Ferris wheel. It was big with beautiful light colors. Some people where on them and there were a few empty ones. Gary, Avocato and Jemima got on a red one and sat down waiting for the ride to be ready. 

 Avocato - “If you get scared you can hold my hand.”

 Jemima - “Okay Daddy.”

 Gary - “Don't worry. You got this Jemima, you’re a Team Squad: they can always face new challenges.”

 Jemima - *smiles* “Okay I'm ready!”

 The Ferris wheel moved a little meaning it was starting to get ready. Then the Ferris wheel slowly began to go up.

 Avocato - “Here we go!”

 Jemima feels excited at first but as the ride went higher, she started to feel nervous. She never was this high up since she was escaping the orphanage with Emma and the others. 

 Jemima - *nervous* “Oh we are really high…”

 Avocato - “It's okay, sweetie. You can hold my hand.”

 Jemima holds her daddy's hand tight as the go up to the top and it stops.

 Jemima - “Hey it stops!”

 Gary - “It's okay sweetie. It's normal for this ride.”

 Jemima - *scared* “Oh...okay that fine.”

 Gary - “Are you okay, honey?”

 Jemima - “I never been up this high...Expect the day I escape *start to get scared* It feels....so scary! *tears up* What if I fall off?!”

 Avocato - *held her hands tightly* Now don't worry baby you won't fall off. I'll always protect you.”

 Gary - “‘Me too. Whenever you fall down, we will always be there to help you get back up.

 Jemima hugged her dad tight and buried her face at his side. 

 Avocato - “We promise.”

 Jemima - “Thank you Daddy.”

 Avocato - “Aww you're welcome princess.”

 Jemima smiles at her father and Uncle Gary who smiled back at her. Gary then looked up in the sky. Sometimes whenever he sneaks here, he would go on the Ferris wheel just for a ride. When it stops at the top, he would always look up at the sky. When he looks up at the sky, Gary would always think of his Dad. He would remember the space stories his father would tell him and how they would pretend to have space adventures. Even though John died, Gary sometimes like to imagine that instead of John dying, he simply out there in space having lots of space adventures to protect the Earth. But he knows that this is reality and reality can sometimes be a real tearjerker. Then the Ferris wheel began to move again.

 Jemima - “It's moving!”

 Avocato - “Yep. We'll be down soon, Jemima.”

 Jemima - “Okay this isn't so bad!”

 Gary - “Almost there.”

 Then the ride stopped, and everybody got off. Jemima actually felt happy because despite being scared for a little bit, she actually had fun on the Ferris wheel. 

 Jemima - That was actually fun!

 Avocato: *picks her up* “You see? I told you it was safe.”

 Jemima - “Thanks Daddy! Thanks Uncle Gary!”

 Gary - “Anytime cupcake.”

 Avocato - “I wonder how the others ride were.” 

 Then they saw Little Cato and the others looked dazed. Their hair looked a bit messy, and they were wearing t-shirts. At first, they were quiet which slightly worried Avocato, Gary and Jemima. But then Ash began to shout:

 Ash - “That was the best ride ever!!!! The loops, the speed, it was amazing!!”

 Fox - “I feel like a part of me died, and another part of me have just been born!”

 Little Cato - “I didn't even care that I puke!”

 Trina - “Neither did it!”

 Jemima - *a bit concerned* “Are you guys okay?”

 Little Cato - *excited* “Are you kidding? We had a blast! Dad the ride was so awesome!!

 Avocato - “I'm glad son!”

 Trina - “And how was y’all ride?”

 Jemima - *happy*  “It was fun actually! Daddy, Uncle Gary, and I went really high and then really low and high again. It was so fun!”

 Little Cato - “That’s great!”

 Gary - *stomach growls* “Anyone hungry! 

 Jemima - “I am!”

 Trina - “Yeah I can grab something to eat.”

 Fox - “Yeah I'm starved!”

 Gary - “Well we can fix that! Come I'll take you to the snack place.”

 ()()()()()()()()()

 Little Cato - “What do they usually serve here, Gary?”

 Gary - “Stuff like cotton candy, hot dogs, popcorn, French friends, big pretzel, etc.”

 Jemima - “I want some cotton candy!”

 Ash - “Me too!”

 Gary - “Okay! After snacks we get to win prizes!”

 Jemima - “Oh yay!!”

 Avocato - “This is actually a good plan Gary.”

 Gary - “Thanks buddy.”

 Then they made it to the snack bar. Luckily for them it wasn’t full since there weren’t many people. Jemima’s eyes widen in amazement. She never seen so many snacks that look really tasty. Jemima couldn’t wait to taste them. 

 Jemima - *amazed* “Wow! Look at all the snacks!”

 Gary - “Yep! Get whatever you want, kiddos! The treats on me!”

 Trina - “Oh that's awesome!”

 Jemima: Thanks uncle Gary!

 They went to the stand. The others began to look around on what snacks they wanted. Jemima had a little trouble seeing, but Avocato picks her up so she can see better. 

 Jemima - *smiles* “Thanks daddy.”

 Avocato - “No problem baby. What snack do you want Jemima?”

 Jemima - *thinking* “Hmmm...I wanna try cotton candy!”

 Avocato: *chuckles* “You got it, baby.”

 Little Cato - “I think I'll try a corn dog.”

 Trina - “I'll get some popcorn.”

 Fox - “There's some cheese fries with my name on it!”

��Ash - “Ooh I wanna try the hot dogs!”

 Avocato: *smiles* “Alright kids, one at a time.”

 They all order the snacks. Then they went to a table to relax and enjoy eating their snacks. Jemima was amaze on how soft and pink her cotton candy food was. It even smelled really good and sweet. After a minute admiring her food, Jemima began to take a bite out of her snack.

 Jemima - *delightful* “Wow! This is super yummy!”

 Little Cato - *eating his food* “Yeah and this is good too! Hey sis, wanna trade bites?”

 Jemima - “Okay!”

 Jemima takes a bite of Little Cato’s corndog while he takes a bite of her cotton candy. Jemima eyes widen on the taste of the corn dog. Even Little Cato’s eyes widen on the sweet taste of the cotton candy: 

 Jemima - “Wow this is tasty!” 

 Little Cato - “So is this cotton candy!”

 Trina - “I wonder what snack Gary got?”

 Gary comes back with another dish in his hand. He sat down in his seat and when he opened the over, it was some funnel cake. 

 Gary - “Thought I'd get some funnel cake for you guys to share. It been one of my favorite cakes.”

 Trina - “Ooh it looks good!”

 They all take some bites. Jemima’s eyes widen like if she tasted the most wonderful food in the world. 

 Jemima - *amazed* “This is so good!”

 Fox - *amazed* “This is like heaven inside of my mouth!”

 Little Cato - “Yeah! I never tasted anything like it!”

 Gary - “You never had sweets?”

 Little Cato - “Oh I have. Just not funnel cake. Actually...I rarely had any sweets.”

 Avocato - “Yeah I guess I wasn't much of a cake person. Anything sweet in general.”

 Jemima - *confused* “Why not Daddy?”

 Avocato - “I don't know. Maybe I never ate a lot of sweets. I don’t really have a huge, sweet tooth.”

 Jemima - “To be honest, me neither.”

 Gary - “They never gave you candy?”

 Jemima - “Actually no. "Mom" didn't want us to spoil our meals and never gave us any.”

 Trina - *sympathy* “Aw man that's tough.”

 Jemima - “Actually not really. They had home cook  food meals at the orphanage. They were tasty though!”

 Gary -  “Well at least they fed you kids.”

 Jemima - “Yeah and we did have lots of  fun. I played with my friends all the time. *sighs* I just hope they're okay.”

 Little Cato - *concerned* “Aw don't worry I'm sure they are okay. I mean at least you guys escape.”

 Jemima - “Yeah. But I still miss them. In fact, you guys kinda remind me of my friends.”

 Gary - “We do?”

 Jemima - Yeah. Gary remind me of my big sister Emma.”

 Ash - “You have a sister?”

 Jemima - “Well back at the orphanage, we may not be related but we were all siblings to each other. Emma was like a big sister to me...Little Cato and Daddy remind me of Ray.

 Avocato -*touched* “Aww really?”

 Jemima - “Yes. You both care about me and help me when I'm scared. He the one who helped me escape.

 Avocato - *smiles* “Sound like a good brother.”

 Jemima - “He was…*smiles* But I still have a great brother.”

 Little Cato - *smiles* “And who's that?”

 Jemima - “You silly!” *hugs him*

 Little Cato - “Well I am an awesome brother. Before I met you, I never had any brothers or sisters.”

 Jemima - “Really?”

 Little Cato - “Yeah I was an only child.”

 Ash- “I didn't know that.”

 Trina - “So was I.”

 Gary - “Yeah me too.”

 Fox - “Same.”

 Ash - “I did have a sister once.”

 Jemima - “What happened to her?”

 Ash looks down in sadness. Jemima knows that when somebody look down in sadness and have a sad face, that means they lost them. She knows because she saw Emma and Ray had that look before when Norman was shipped away. 

 Jemima - *feeling bad* “Oh I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say anything!”

 Ash - *comforting* “It's okay you didn't know.”

 Gary noticed how everybody looked a bit sad when Ash mentioned her sister. Not wanting this to be the depressing fun fair, Gary stood up and said: 

 Gary - “Hey I know what would cheer us up.”

 He pointed to games where you can win prizes. It was a few feet away from them. The first game was a laser gun game where you have to shoot the moving target. 

 Jemima - “How do we play, Uncle Gary?”

 Gary - “Simple, you need to shoot the target to get a prize.”

 Jemima - *sad* “But I can't shoot.”

 Little Cato: *cracks his knuckles* “You let your big brother take care of that, Jemmy.”

 Jemima - “You can do it?”

 Little Cato - *cocky* “Hey, I've had years of practice.

 Avocato - *encouraging* “You can do it son!”

 Little Cato plays the game, and it was a bit difficult as first. But he didn’t give up because he wanted to win for his sister. Little Cato remembers the lessons his father taught him about focusing on the target and not let the frustration get the better of him. Then in no time, he wins. 

 Jemima - *happy* “Yay!!! He did it!!

 Gary - *cheering* “Way to go, Spider Cat!”

 Little Cato - “Thank you!”

 Alien - *bored* “Okay pick a prize you want.”

 Jemima looks over the prizes. They had some prizes like basketballs, laser guns, but some really weird ones like eyeball in jars, and weird screaming small aliens in cages. These prizes aren’t very fitting for Jemima. But she did a cute pink teddy bear with a pink bow. 

 Jemima - *happy* “That pink teddy!”

 Gary - “Okay! Can we have that pink teddy please?”

 Alien - *bored* “You got it.”

 He hands the teddy to Jemima. Jemima looked so happy and gave it a big hug.  

 Jemima - *ecstatic* “Thanks! *hugs Little Cato* Oh thank your big brother!”

 Little Cato - “No problem Jemima!”

 Ash - “My turn next!”

 Trina -  “Let’s do a contest!”

 Ash - “What kind of contest?”

 Trina - “We both play this game at the same time and see who wins first!”

 Ash - *smug* “Oh you're on! And this is for Little Cato too!”

 Trina - *confused* “Why?

 Little Cato - *confused* “Yeah why?”

 Ash - “Because I like you remember?”

 Little Cato - “Oh right.”

 Jemima: Good luck!

 Trina - *smug*  “Don't worry I got this!”

 They both play the game. They began to shoot the targets. Deep down Trina wanted to use her magic because she loves to win games. However, she remembers how her parents will tell to play fair and using magic in games is cheating. 

 Gary - “Go girls go!”

 Fox - “You can do it Ash!”

 Then the game is over. It shows that Trina beat Ash by one point. 

 Trina - *cheering* “I won!! Yes!!!”

 Ash - *dismayed* “Aw come on! You have magic!”

 Trina - *defended* “Well so do you!”

 Alien - “Actually all game booths have a non-magic barrier to prevent cheating.”

 Trina - “Oh well...I still won!”

 Alien - Alright, what will it be young lady? 

 Trina looked around the prizes. She didn’t really want a pink teddy bear because she not a fan of the color pink. Then she saw a snow globe that had a plant design in it.

 Trina - *impressed* “Ooh I want that one!”

 Then the alien gave her the snow globe. Trina smiled because she loves snow globes as long as she can remember. 

 Gary - “Good choice, Lady Magic!”

 Little Cato - “Let us see!”

 Trina show her friends her new snow globe. Everybody was amaze on how it looked.

 Jemima - “Ohh it's pretty!

 Ash - “It does look pretty cool.”

 Trina - “I always love snow globes. I love these things.”

 Little Cato - “Are they your hobby?”

 Trina - “Yep!”

 Jemima - “So cool!!”

 Avocato - “Anything else we should do Gary?”

 Gary - “How about we play some more?”

 Little Cato - “Is there anything else besides this one? It can get boring after a while.”

 Gary - “Well There's skeeball, basketball, and shooting galleries.”

 Little Cato - *amazed* “Ooh Let's do a shooting gallery!”

 Jemima - “Maybe you and Daddy should have a contest too!!”

 Little Cato - *smug* “Hmmm...Maybe I can take down Dad.”

 Avocato -  *smirks and chuckles* “Okay yeah? I could whup you with my eyes closed!”

 Little Cato - “So can I!”

 Avocato - “Alright you're on!”

 Little Cato - “Ooh I'm gonna beat you so bad!”

 “Avocato: In your dreams, kiddo!”

 ()()()()()()()()

 The Team Squad was now at the shooting gallery place. Luckily, it wasn’t crowded and not many people were in it. But they do practice shooting and see how many holes they can shoot in the target board. Avocato and Little Cato was getting ready.

 Jemima - “Good luck!”

 Then the game started and both Avocato and Little Cato began to shoot their board target. 

 Trina - “You can do it Little Cato!”

 Gary -  “Come on buddy!!”

 Little Cato - “Heh. Don't choke now, Dad!”

 Avocato - In your dreams!

 Jemima - “Who do you think will win?”

 Gary - “I say Avocato he got more experience.”

 Fox - *offensive*  “Hey, younger generations always win!”

 Ash - “Yeah it's true!”

 Jemima - “Do your best!”

 Then the timer beep and the game were over. Then the scoreboard shows that Little Cato and Avocato ended in a tie. 

 Alien - “It's a tie!!”

 Trina - *amazed* “Wow! You guys were awesome!”

 Little Cato -  “Thanks! It was fun!”

 Alien - “You both can pick out a prize.”

 Avocato and Little Cato began to look around. They saw how the prizes had some guns. While it looked cool, they already had lots of guns. Then Little Cato spotted a music player and takes it. 

 Little Cato - “I really like this one.”

 Avocato - “Nice. I think I'll take...That acoustic guitar.”

 Gary - “You play guitar?”

 Avocato - “I used to back when I was a teen.”

 Jemima - *amazed* “That's so co daddy!

 Little Cato: You never told me that?

 Avocato - *shrugs* “Eh. I kinda gave up on it after I grew up.”

 Gary - “Really how come?”

 Avocato - “Had too many things to focus on to do my hobby.”

 Gary - “Well now you get to focus on it again.”

 Jemima - “I'd love to hear you play, daddy!”

 Little Cato - “Me too!”

 Avocato - *surprised* “Oh really?”

 Gary - Yeah! It would be cool.”

 Avocato - *smiles* “Well okay.”

 Jemima - “Yay! It will be so cool!”

 Little Cato - “Yeah!!”

 Fox - “Come on, guys! I'm gonna try the strength game!”

 Ash - “Oh I know you will win that easily!”

 Fox - “Heck yeah!”

 He goes to play, and he was so strong he knocked the bell off the game. His prize was a big stuffed dog.

 Fox - *ecstatic* “Check it out y'all!”

 Jemima - *surprised* “That's a big doggy!”

 Ash -  “Nice job bro!”

 Fox - *hugging the dog* “I love this doggy!!”

 Ash - Now I need to find a game so I can get something too.”

 Jemima - *How about that one?”

 She points to the skeeball booth. She saw some people playing the game. They were winning tickets and getting prizes.

 Ash - *amazed* “Ooh that looks fun!”

 Little Cato - “Go try it!”

 Ash pick up the ball and threw it and it made in the hole and a ticket came out. Then she kept playing and more tickets came out. Ash kept on playing until the timer beep and she got lost of tickets. 

 Ash - “Hey look! Some paper came out.”

 Gary - “Those are tickets. You win more of those; you can exchange them for prizes. Now you get to pick a prize with them.”

 The alien took and counted the tickets. Then he said 

 Alien - “Actually she has enough for 2 prizes.”

 Ash - *cheering* “Yes! Yes!”

 Gary - “Alright! Okay pick your prize.”

 Ash picks out an action figure for her prize. Then she saw Jemima and got an idea. 

 Ash - “I have one more to pick so it's your turn, Jemmy.

 Jemima - “Really? I get to pick another prize?”

 Ash - “Sure! Go ahead. You deserve it.”

 Jemima looked around and had a little trouble deciding. She knows that she WAY too young to have a gun. Then she saw  a Pokémon plush  which was a teddiursa. 

 Jemima - “I like this one!”

 Ash - “Nice!”

 Jemima - “Thanks Ash”!

 Ash - “No problem. I felt like you needed a prize.”

 Jemima hugs Ash. Ash was a little surprised because nobody ever hugged her accept her brother and sister. But somehow, Jemima reminds her of a younger Harp and Ash hugged her back. 

 Jemima - “What do we do now?”

 Gary - “Have more fun if y'all want! We have lots of time.”

 Jemima - “Yeah! We can win more stuff!”

 Fox - “And eat more snacks!”

 Little Cato - “And more rides!”

 Gary - “Alright! Let's do this!”

 They all go have more fun and it was a blast.

Jemima got a couple more dolls, Avocato & Gary did some karaoke, & Little Cato and his friends rode more rides. For once in their life, they were having fun and not have to worry about no bad guys or anything. Then they were starting to get exhausted. 

 Gary - *exhausted* “Okay...How about We head home huh?”

 Everyone agreed at once. Jemima had her head on her Dad’s shirt but was starting to get sleepy.

 Jemima - *sleepily* “Mmmm…”

 Avocato - “I think this little one is tired the most.”

 Avocato picks her up and carries her as Jemima rests her head on his shoulder. Avocato smiles because it reminds him the time Little Cato was younger and whenever he gets tired, his father would carry him. 

 Avocato: *pats het back* “Poor thing is all tuckered out.”

 Ash - “Who can blame her after all the fun we had.”

 Little Cato “I don't. I had a blast!”

 Trina - “Yeah it was really fun!”

 Fox & Ash - “It was so awesome!!”

 Avocato - *smiles* “It was actually.”

 Trina -  “Thanks so much, Gary!

 Little Cato - “Yeah! We needed this.”

 Gary - *smiles* “Anytime Guys. I wanted you all to have some good memories like I did.”

 Avocato - “Well you defiantly gave us a lot of good ones. I've never seen my kids so happy.”

 Trina - “And I never had this much fun.”

 Fox - *smiles* “Neither have we.”

 Ash - “Like I'm gonna remember this moment forever!”

 Little Cato - “Me too and I know Jemmy will too.”

 Gary - “I think she had a great time out of all of us.”

 Avocato - “Her face was lit up the whole time. She loved every minute of it.”

 Gary - “Well I did want her to give a fun memory.”

 Avocato - “Well you did, buddy. And I can't thank you enough for that.”

 Gary - “No problem Avocato. After all we been through, I felt like we needed it.”

 They  smiled at each other as they went back to the ship. Once they entered the ship, everybody went to their rooms and Avocato tucked his daughter into bed and set her new toys next to her.

 Jemima: *sleepy* “Daddy?”

 Avocato - “Yes Baby?”

 Jemima - “Thanks for a great time. And tell Uncle Gary I said thanks too.”

 Avocato - *smiled* “No problem.”

 Jemima smiled and did a cute yawn. Avocato gave his daughter a kiss good night and left the room.

 Avocato - “Good night princess. I'm glad you had a fun time.”

 Jemima smiles and fell asleep as Avocato close the door. Then before he went back to his room, he saw Gary again and said:

 Avocato - “Hey man. I just wanted to thank you again. For the trip. We needed it.”

 Gary - *smiles* “No problem. After we all been through with Invictus and the Lord Commander, we deserve it.”

 Avocato - “Yeah we did. I just wish I did this stuff with Little Cato when he was younger...I felt like I wasted his childhood.”

 Gary - “Hey don’t say that. I mean I know it wasn’t perfect but at least he still has you. I still carry that happy moments I have with my Dad to keep going. Sure, the life burrito had some burnt parts...REALLY burnt parts, there was some good stuff too. It not too late with Little Cato and it’s definitely not too late for Jemima.”

 Avocato - *smiles* “Thanks man. I just want to be a good father to them. I don’t want go to back to where I didn’t spend much time with Little Cato and have him taken away from me for 3 years.”

 Gary - “Hey, those 3 years are really major bumps. But you managed to past them. You still can make these memories for both him and Jemima. They love you and you love them. And I know with me and the others, we can make these memories action pack and even heartwarming combine like a sandwich.”

 Avocato - “Thanks man. I know I can’t make that without you.”

 Gary - “Hey man. We are back to back for life.”

 They did the clasps of friendship. They vow they will always be in Little Cato and Jemima and the rest of their friend’s life and make amazing memories. Even if it really bumpy, they will get past it because they are a Team Squad. 

 Hope you like it ^^

[from-red-string]

Instinct

I'm so nervous for posting this for Day 3, I worry if anyone would read about Ana and Mora since they're not even secundary characters, they are just extras not in my heart but in the show, and this made it harder to write it. Anyway, it's here and I hope you like it.

Shout out to @sapphire374 for easing my worries and beta reading it 💛

Find all fics for Soy Luna Ficweek 2021, here

Day 3

Prompt: “Is this the second time we’ve both gotten stuck in the same elevator?”

Summary: The first time Ana and Mora got stuck in the elevator was when they stopped talking, a week later when it happens again: is it the time to rebound? or something more?

Warning: unfortunately it's not canon. Tino and Cato don't exist, they have never seen them, no one knows them in this fic

Genre: angst

Pairing: Ana and Mora a.k.a the lesbian moms

---

Another silent morning in the apartment, a rare situation for Nina. From what she could remember, there has never been a quiet day home ever since they moved in. Mora's sewing machine, some random song playing as background noise, or just Buenos Aires' downtown being crowded and busy. Although she appreciated the silence, it's odd, the girl is not used to it anymore.

Now both her mom and auntie didn't exchange a word, Mora has been working on arranging some photoshoots, she woke up for lunchtime and only came back late at night, while Ana left early for her meetings then arrived at 4 pm. Seems like they had it all planned out just so they didn't have to face each other. 

Nina didn't know what happened between them but hoped it would go away soon.

Well, unexpectedly it got different from other days from the beginning. When Nina left her room, Mora was awake and making herself breakfast. The girl checked the clock again, still at 7 am.

"Good morning, cariño" Mora smiled at her while Nina approached to sit on the chair.

"Morning." She reached for the bread slowly, hesitant. Her instincts told her to move carefully. "I thought I'd only see you later." Mora laughed but it was too stiff.

"I have to drive 3 hours to check for some special fabrics I'm looking for." The redhead tried to show excitement, however, such a rush manner showed her nervousness. Nina knew it wasn't about the fabrics. As soon as the clicks sound of Ana's heels started, Mora stands up. "I really need to go. Bye, darling." And left through the door carrying her purse, phone, and keys.

"Good luck there." Nina greets her and takes Mora's plate away immediately. She'd rather not step into whatever happened. Ana comes from her room in a rush and Nina wide her eyes when her mom gets to the front door. "Mom, you can't leave without eating."

"I'm late already. Sorry, cariño. I'll be back early. Bye… Hold the door, please!" Ana fleed before Nina could react. The girl opens the door to check on them but they were already gone. 

The silence from home followed them into the elevator. None dared to look up from their phones. Mora started to tap her foot impatiently when she noticed the elevator was slow today. 

"Can you stop?" Ana asked, staring at her screen.

"Oh, good morning. Now you can see me." Mora smirked, still avoiding Ana's face, kept tapping her shoe.

"More like I can hear you. Always so noisy."

"Can you? It didn't seem like that last week." The snark got the fashion designer, she provoked back looking at Ana and waiting for a reaction but she got nothing. "Back to ignoring me. Hope Mario has a better shot talking to you than I do." The lack of response from the lawyer building up her annoyance. "Even though we live together and have been friends for a lifetime. You rather believe in him than..."

"Give me a reason," Ana said, losing her temper. The elevator stops, slowing down. "I need a plea." Walking side to side in this shiny box they were failing to realize they were trapped in.

"My instincts are not a good one. I don't trust him." Mora decided to watch her friend through the reflection, pretending to fix her hair in the mirror.

"Of course not." Ana laughed at her. "Do you think I can defend a case based on your feelings? A judge would accept it, declare him guilt for you." Her voice was cold, but the rage -boiling inside was still audible.

"You're not a judge, Ana." Turning around she steps in Ana's way, staring at her. "Ain't a case but your life." Each word was another step forward, the lawyer's back hit the wall, but she wouldn't give up on a debate, her index finger touched Mora's shoulder.

"That's exactly the problem." This time the designer was the one walking backward. "My life is never good enough for you. I can't even decide on Nina's life without you around." Mora's jaw dropped and she stuttered, with a non-comprehensible sound coming from her mouth. "Not even a boyfriend." That's the moment Ana breaks, lowering her head and resting on Mora's shoulder while the other was glued on the wall, still recovering from shook, nevertheless, she wrapped her arms around her friend's body. 

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't… mean to make you feel less..." trying to find words at that moment was completely useless, not even in her wildest dreams she would have imagined she made Ana doubt herself. Her friend's knees seemed to give up and her body weighted, they sank to the floor while Ana let out all she needed to. It's been ages since the lawyer opened herself like this, they were best friends, Mora knew Ana has been holding up for who knows how long, well if that's even considered opening up. 

All the signs Mora neglected before came down on her. Ana has been distant for months, she pushed Mora away, anytime they were alone and approached each other, Ana would step away like her skin burned from the contact.

Mora kept Ana pressed against her body until the very last tear she had, waiting for her to calm down. Once Ana's sobs were more spaced, she raised her head displaying her red cheeks, Mara's heart stings with this scene, her hands capture Ana's face moving toward her until their forehead touches.

"I'm sorry, I..." Shutting her eyes, unable to face the tears that still shine on her lover's face. Guilty fell hard on her shoulders. Ana fought to be an independent woman who could support her daughter without her ex's money, Mora watched how much she struggled to get there, yet the main person who helped her in all her lows is also the same who stuck her nose in all her matters, Mora was both a guardian and a butcher. Now that she has to take a good on her actions, Mora told Nina she should follow her heart and go after Gastón if that's her desire, while Ana, Nina's mother, had explicit disagreed about this idea. She should've considered that maybe she wasn't helping Ana see another point of view but making it harder to care for her own daughter.

There was an even worse thought haunting her, she told Nina to go because she feared Gastón would repeat her story, going to another country and losing the love of her life, forever wondering what would have happened if she stayed. That thought scared her, she denied it to herself but it had lived in her mind for so long.

When Mora went to Germany, she made her choice, decided to go on an adventure instead of staying with Ana. She was young, by the time believed they would still be the same through distance, their relationship wouldn't change, but that's not what happened. It came out to be harder than she thought, they never revealed themselves as a couple, it was so natural for them to be together like that, the sneaking out, sleepovers, kisses, and loving moments were part of their friends, they didn't feel the need to label that. Once distance came into the scene, it got complicated, both noticing how much they missed each other, although not willing to give up on their paths, not labeling their friendship made it easier to move on, no one but them knew what went on inside those walls, they just had to keep going. They never stopped talking completely, they called each other every other week updating about their lives, never talking about their relationship, how they missed each other's touch.

When Mora visited Argentina, she learned about Ana and Ricardo's relationship, they were dating, that's when what was between them seemed to be forgotten by Ana. Mora was happy for her friend, of course, but they never left her mind.

Nothing happened while Ana's married, Mora's life went on. Both of them supported each other, and were always around. Nina's birth was emotional just like all the previous months Mora spent by Ana's side. They never regretted the choice that took them to that day.

Then suddenly came the divorce, not long after Ana needed a place to stay with Nina, Mora's house was always open for them, so they started to live together. 

The intimacy level acquired from sharing the same place made them go back to their old ways. Little by little, their old friendship came back to the same mold from when they were young. Sometimes they kissed after drinking some wine, sneaked to each other’s bed after Nina went to bed, or just cooked together and held hands during dinner. Plus, small touches in public, taking care of Nina, going to the supermarket. Small domestic daily moments that made them feel comfortable. 

Mora finally had it in her hands, everything she imagines. Then, Ana backed away, slipping through her fingers. None of them said a word about it, the unspoken words lost in the silence.

"I'm sorry," She repeated, opening her eyes again, Ana shook her head, scaring Mora. "Ana..." She had to admit it, she knows it wasn't right to push her own experience on Nina.

"You were right." When Ana said that, More dropped her hands confused. Ana leaned back against the wall, now sitting by Mora's side and looking to the elevator's door. "Thiago is a liar." Mora was even more lost. Who the hell is Thiago? "He is married." Ah, he is the boyfriend. It wasn't that deep for Mora, nothing personal, she just felt it in her that guy shouldn't be trusted. She felt a little proud and bit her bottom lip to prevent herself from smiling. Ana looked at her frustrated. "You're annoying, I can see you smiling. Yes, you told me, whatever." Watching Ana complain was the same as seeing an old picture, Ana was still the girl from school days behind the successful lawyer and tough mom facade.

"Ana," She waited for Ana to look at her. "It was an instinct." 

"Shut up!" The answer didn't surprise Mora, but the small that followed it did. Ana closed her eyes and faced the ceiling, the smile glued on her face. "It's not that I don't want you in my life, you were always there for me." She faced Mora again. "But when it comes to Nina, don't disagree with how I raise my kid. She's a teen, just wants echo to confirm her ideas, they don't know the consequences."

"Nina is really responsible, you should give her more credit." Mora couldn't stop the words from coming out. When Ana narrowed her eyes, she raised her hands in defeat. "She had an amazing mom to teach her." Added with a wink making Ana laugh, she approached her face to Mora. The designer became extremely aware of the short space between them, a few inches to no distance at all.

"She's 17." They exchange looks. Too meaningful, too painful. That's the same age they separated.

"Why didn't you go?" It came out as a whisper, due to the almost non-existent distance Ana could hear perfectly, Mora should've stopped herself. That was a forbidden question. Ana immediately pulled away, looked at the elevator's screen.

They weren't working.

She picked up her phone to look at the hours, then looked at her watch. 20 minutes since she left the apartment since she left to her next meeting, she doesn't have to worry about it for the next 40 minutes. 

"Why are you up so early?" Ana questioned only now noticing how weird this scene was. 

"It's time to look for fabrics." Mora answered, snapping out of her thoughts. 

"You'll drive for 3 hours again? You should've scheduled it for later, you don't drive well when you're sleepy, it's early for you." Her worries were real, Mora wasn't awake before 10 am at least. Listening to her made Mora feel a little warmer and a wide smile appeared without her consent. "How can you drive? You didn't even notice we were stuck in here." Mora really didn't notice.

"Is this the second time we’ve both gotten stuck in the same elevator?” Mora joked that both of them laughed. "One time for the present, two times for the past." 

"Yeah, this time is fixing what the first time did." Ana reached for Mora's hand, intertwining their fingers. Mora caught her breath. A voice came from the speaker above the floor screen.

"We're sorry for the inconvenience. The elevator will be moving in a few minutes." Ana recognized the janitor's voice. Mora was stuck looking at Ana.

"We'll be free soon." Ana stood up, keeping their hands locked, then noticed Mora's eyes on her face. "Is there something on my face?" She turned to the mirror. Her mask was ruined, her cheeks were reddened and glistened from the tears, hair fell from the elegant ponytail she caged them earlier, her lipstick was smugged. She was a mess, but in Mora's eyes, she was beautiful. "I'll need to go home and fix myself." Noted annoyed.

"No, I can do it." Mora raised from the floor, got her make up from the purse to work with it. Ana decided to let Mora paint her as she desired, feeling a bit nervous but she wanted to show Mora she trusted her. Ana knows Mora is feeling bad for today's argument already and she saw every wince of pain that flashed in her dark eyes every time Ana rejected her touch.

Mora focused on making Ana's make up, trying to tone down her ideas for Ana's face and making something that would make her comfortable and pretty. It worked well until it was time to work on her mouth, Mora decided on a lip tint, in this case for her own sanity, lipstick would demand too much time working on a painting she wanted to ruin, too tempting. Her hand started shaking, Ana noticed it too but before the suggestion of doing it herself came out, Mora put the lip tint in her pocket.

"I forgot the hair. Lips are the grand finale." As soon as Mora had to reach her hand for Ana's she noticed that was a terrible idea. While Mora pulled the lawyer's hair free, Ana shivered at the quick contact of her hand against Ana's scalp. Memories from other moments those same fingers touched that place rushed back to her mind, her eyes closing to better appreciate the feeling. Mora saw this reaction and rested her hand on Ana's neck, watching the reaction until she couldn't help but lean in and close the gap between them, crashing her lips on hers quickly. The kiss was chaste, as fast it came, it ended. 

Seeming to Ana as if her imagination had created the feeling because when she eyed Mora, the lip tint was back and she was ready to place it. But the beam on Mora's lip couldn't be denied. It happened, an instinct told Ana it did.

[holidaywishes]

not all monsters do monstrous things...

Part 6: The Argument

  Summary of Series: Delly Cartwright lost her best friend, Peeta, to   the games. Now, the one that took him seems to have a soft spot for her.

  Summary of Chapter: Delly has been living with Cato for a couple weeks now but his constant sneaking out leaves her feeling angry and alone.

  Warning: Fluff, some angst, mentions of prostitution,

  Author’s Note: This one is a bit longer but we’re starting to get to more exciting parts of the series so get pumped! Again, credit goes to original fanfic.net writer of They Caught Fire. Find it, read it, it’s good. Mine is slightly more flushed out but the idea is the same. So credit where credit is due.

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  It had been two weeks since you were torn from your home and brought to the Capitol to live with Cato. He tried explaining it to you but you refused to listen.

  “You can’t ignore me forever” he said after days of you not talking to him, earning a scoff from you as you walked to the couch, “if you would just talk to me, you’d understand why you’re here”

  “I’m not interested”

  “So you’re just going to live here in silence?”

  “If that’s the way it has to be”

  “Whatever,” he sighed, rubbing his temples, “I have to go. Stay here, read some books. Watch something. So whatever, just stay here. Got it?”

  “Yeah-uh” you said, waving your hand to shoo him away and he shook his head as a reply. When he finally left, you caught yourself staring at the closed door, biting the corner of your mouth as you contemplated peeking out the hole in the door. You huffed as you stood up and hopped to the door, hoping you’d still be able to see him, and, there he was, climbing into a limo, “where is he going?” You said to yourself as the car drove away toward the bright lights of the Capitol Centre. You spent a few hours searching through his cabinets and exploring different rooms of the house, starting to get bored but not knowing what else to do. When you had run out of options, you decided to get some sleep when there was a knock on the door, “company?” You thought to yourself, “it couldn’t be, Cato wouldn’t allow that.” Whoever was at the door, knocked again and you stood behind the door, biting your lip as your hand hesitated to open the door

  “Hello?” The voice called, you suddenly flew toward the door to answer it, desperate for company. “Oh! Hello?” they said

  “Hello..” you replied, not inviting them in

  “I’m Finnick,” he smiled, outstretching his hand, “nice to meet you.”

  “I’m--” you stopped, not knowing if you should introduce yourself, “Delly.”

  “Can I come in, Delly?” he asked, walking past you into Cato’s home

  “Uhh..” you stammered, “I’m sorry, Cato isn’t here”

  “No I know. He’s out... partying” he smirked

  “Can I help you with something?”

  “I just wanted to meet you”

  “You know about me?”

  “Cato mentioned something a little while ago”

  “I see...” you sighed, closing the door and walking in his direction

  “He explained you quite accurately,” he said and you tilted your head, “he was very... smitten, let’s say.”

  “Smitten?” you scoffed, “he’s sure doing a hell of a job showing it”

  “Go easy on him, huh?” he said softly, sitting on the couch as if he was going to be staying a while

  “Go easy on the victor who killed my best friend and tore me away from my family?” you snarled

  “He’s been put in a tough situation now. He’s actually not a bad guy...”

  “How am I supposed to act? He won’t tell me why I’m here, He didn’t even ask me to come here -- I was just thrown into a train and dragged here”

  “I have a feeling he tried to tell you why you’re here but you didn’t listen”

  “No...” you tried, “fine. I’ve been trying to ignore him because I’m angry. I don’t want to be here, I want to be at home with my family and friends.”

  “He means well,” he laughed, “he’s just... never had to be nice to anyone before.” You scoffed again, rolling your eyes, finally sitting down next to him

  “You’re really going to tell me to sit there and give him a chance?”

  “Yes”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” he sighed, looking down as he twiddled his thumbs, “I think you’ll realize how much he needs you.” The words caught you off guard. No one had ever needed you before. Not your parents. Not your brother. Not Peeta. No one. So the idea that you could be that important to someone made you want to rethink everything.

  “But..” you started, sighing and leaning back into the couch as you groaned, “I haven’t been able to leave this giant house for two weeks. And he leaves every chance he gets”

  “Let him explain why..” Finnick urged

  “Why can’t I leave?”

  “Because you’re not from here. People would have questions”

  “No one knows me here”

  “You forget that the reapings and the tours are all broadcast. People know you’re Peeta’s best friend. They may not remember your name but they know your story” he replied, leaning his elbows on his knees

  “Great...” you sighed, “so I’m just supposed to give Cato a chance while I stay locked up here like some... prisoner?”

  “Oh, Ms. Cartwright,” he scoffed, “you’re not the only prisoner here.” You scrunched your eyebrows together and opened your mouth to speak when Cato threw the door open and huffed as he walked through the large corridors. Doubling back when he realized that you were, in fact, not alone.

  “Finnick?” he asked with a growl. He looked like he’d had quite the night; shirt torn, hair messed up, a small purple mark forming on his jaw

  “Hey buddy!” Finnick laughed, “how was your night?”

  “What are you doing here?” he said through bared teeth and you watched as Finnick led him back to the door, whispering something in his ear that you didn’t quite hear, until they looked back at you

  “Just sit down and talk to her” Finnick said to Cato as he waved goodbye to you. You waved back and waited for Cato to yell at you for inviting someone in but instead he just closed the door softly and stood with his head against the door for a moment before finally speaking to you

  “I didn’t think you’d still be awake...”

  “I was going to go to bed but Finnick...” you started

  “What did he tell you?” the words grew louder with each step he took toward you, forcing a flinch to overtake you until you were practically cowering with fear

  “He didn’t tell me anything,” you replied meekly, “he just told me to give you a chance.” He seemed to soften at your confession, dropping his head and letting out a sigh

  “You should get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

xx

Cato’s P.O.V.

  You didn’t know what to do with Delly. You weren’t sure if she was telling you the truth about Finnick and you needed to know what he told her in order to protect her. But she was making it increasingly difficult.

  “Delly,” you said as she walked into the kitchen the next morning, “we should talk...”

  “Sure” she replied, sitting down at the table

  “I don’t know what Finnick told you but in order for us to trust each other,” you started, watching her eyes follow your movements, “there’s probably some things you should know.”

  “Yeah.. like... why you’re--”

  “I didn’t tear you away from your home.” You interrupted and she furrowed her brow at you, “I was in the middle of writing you a letter explaining what was going on when Wade, my mentor, explained what was happening to you.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that? I’m not supposed to think that this is what Victors do? That this is what your District Partner would’ve done if the two of you won together? Keeping people around like prizes to do whatever you please with”

  “Don’t you dare talk about her!” you yelled

  “WHY NOT?! IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DO! I AM SO SICK OF WALKING AROUND GLASS TO NOT UPSET YOU!”

  “Watch what you say next Delly...” you warned but she didn’t listen

  “You were all cruel, in that arena. I get it, you had to be. But her?” she said, “she was the worst. Of all of the Careers.”

  “She was a soldier” you said

  “SHE WAS INSANE!”

  “SHE WAS TRAINED!”

  “TO BE A INSANE PERSON?!”

  “IF SHE WAS INSANE, AM I NOT A MONSTER?”

  “MAYBE YOU ARE! MAYBE I WAS WRONG ABOUT YOU!”

  “AT LEAST I’M NOT WEAK. LIKE YOU AND YOUR LITTLE BAKER FRIEND.”

  “WHY DID YOU EVEN BRING ME HERE?!” Her yelling had caused her voice to crack and you could only imagine how raw her throat must have felt. Her eyes were beginning to well with tears, “I just wanna go home”

  “If you leave,” he stammered, sitting down across from where you stood, “I can’t protect you”

  “Protect me? From what?” You asked

  “President Snow.”

  “I don’t und--” she started but stopped quickly when you glared at her

  “He saw us talking at the Apothecary, during the Tour,” you explained, “he got the idea in his head that there was something going on between us. So, he used you against me”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He said he would kill you and your family if I didn’t do what he said. I couldn’t let you die. I didn’t want you to die”

  “Why not?” she asked harshly, forcing you to shake your head at her question, “you don’t know me. You don’t know my family. You’ve killed people before, and we’re just from District 12. We’re outsiders right? So it wouldn’t have been a big deal to you to kill us.”

  “Delly...” you said softly, reaching out to hold her hands but she tore them away from you, “Snow wasn’t wrong. Maybe you don’t feel anything for me. Maybe you have feelings for Gale..”

  “Gale?” she questioned

  “But,” you continued, “there was something for me there when we met. I didn’t know what President Snow would do but I knew I couldn’t let anything happen to you. Things just spiraled.” You watched as she shook her head, trying to understand your words, and her eyes shifted around the room

  “Fine.” She huffed, “but explain to me why you’re always leaving? Why I can’t go anywhere? I hate being cooped up here all the time and you leave at all hours of the day! I mean sometimes you’re gone before I wake up and then out the entire day. What are you doing?”

  “I can’t--”

  “You have to!” she yelled

  “No, I don’t!” you shouted back

  “Then let me leave.” She countered, sitting back against her chair and crossing her arms over her chest

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Sure you can,” she replied, “let me go outside. Take me with you, wherever it is you go. Take me to one party in the Capitol and I won’t say anything more about it. I’ll stay here and continue to do as you expect me to do.”

  “Delly...” you groaned

  “I’m thousands of miles from home. From my family. From everything I’ve ever known. I deserve not to be treated like a criminal!” The two of you stared at each other for a while before you eventually agreed, even though you knew it was a bad idea that meant Snow would be displeased. But the smile on her face almost made it worth it, you just hoped it would be a fatal agreement.

xx

Delly’s P.O.V

  You had somehow managed to convince Cato to take you out of his mansion and into the Capitol for a party. You were sure that was where he was constantly running off to every night and you just wanted to see why he was so consumed with it. He set out a dress for you on your bed that you were positive his stylist had picked out for him -- a short metallic pastel blue dress to compliment his eyes with sharp shoulders that reminded you of Effie Trinket’s outfits during the Reapings -- and you quickly got dressed to head to the club that Cato was taking you to. When you walked into the club, you were in awe at the opulence of it all; the ceiling stretched for miles and the marble tile covered the entirety of the club, making the music echo throughout every corner. There was stained glass on the dome ceiling that looked as if it depicted great wars and you couldn’t help but be lost in the images you saw.

  “Delly?” Cato asked, bringing you back to reality

  “Sorry,” you said, “I’ve just never seen anything so beautiful before”

  “You’re going to give yourself away” he whispered to you

  “What do you mean?” you asked

  “I got you this dress so people would think that you were from the inner districts, 1, 2, 3, not from District 12. If you continue to fawn over the ceiling, people will definitely know you’re not from here,” he chided, still whispering in your ear, “you look stunning by the way.” You blushed at his compliment and composed yourself, taking your eyes away from the décor

  “So, how do I blend in?” you asked

  “For starters,” he smirked, “have a drink. Then something to eat. Then move over to the dance floor”

  “I’m allowed to dance?” you joked

  “Yes,” he said, “but not too much. Just enough to show off your dress and then head back to the bar.” You did as he said, not wanting to get either of you in trouble, until you saw someone pull him aside

  “He’s just doing business,” a voice said from behind you, “don’t worry, he won’t leave you behind.” You turned around to find Johanna Mason watching Cato walk away with a woman much older than him

  “What do you mean?” you said as you turned to her, “what kind of business?”

  “Oh sweetheart,” she laughed, “you must be the girl from District 12.”

  “What? No! I’m from District 1...” you lied, hoping that the dress and your makeup would fool her

  “He talked about you, Cato, he told us about the girl he met on his Victory Tour whose hair was beautifully gold and whose eyes were like oceans of Sapphire.” She scoffed, forcing you to furrow your brows at her statements, “It’s okay, I’m not going to out you.”

  “What did you mean about Cato? What kind of business is he doing with that woman?” you asked again

  “President Snow has many of the Victors... sell themselves to members of the Capitol Elite as a way of keeping them in line.” You thought about it for a moment but didn’t want to believe it

  “No,” you replied, “Snow loves Cato. He was the perfect victor. He believes that the games are exactly what Snow has told Panem they are.”

  “It’s that kind of dedication that Snow preys on. He needs someone who he can control and tell him that it’s all the price you pay for winning the Games.” She moved to sit down on a curved, purple velvet couch and encouraged you to do the same, which you did, as she continued to explain, “See, I’m not like the other Victors. I don’t have anyone left that I care about so Snow couldn’t force me to do anything. I was free to decline his offer and he couldn’t do anything about it. But the others, they weren’t so lucky. Our dear President would threaten the lives of those we loved most if we, as Victors, didn’t do exactly as he asked.”

  “He said he’d kill us” you mumbled to yourself

  “Yes,” Johanna responded, “or, more accurately, he’d have someone kill you.”

  “So why me? Why would President Snow threaten to kill me and not Cato’s family?”

  “Because,” she huffed, “Cato’s family are the only ones in District 2 who train the tributes to become Victors. Sure, it’s an illegal activity that should not be condoned by our government but it makes for a more exciting Hunger Games, so President Snow allows it. Encourages it even. And because Cato’s parents are the experts in training our young Victors, Snow knew Cato wouldn’t believe his threats against them. That’s where you come in.”

  “I’m not exactly Cato’s type...” you groaned, “he’s not exactly going to worry about me enough for Snow not to kill me or my family. I mean... if he cared he wouldn’t be working tonight”

  “He’s always working. Whether he thinks he is or not” she said

  “So what do I do?” You replied, turning your head in hopes of finding the tall blonde victor you came with

  “Take in the Capitol luxury. Drink, dance, eat. Kiss someone if you want. But be careful what you say. You never know who might be listening...” You turned your head back just in time to find Johanna had left you and you shrugged before heading to the bar to order a drink, only to be stopped by an arm

  “I’ve never seen you before...” the voice that belonged to the arm said

  “I’m.. uhm... a friend of Cato’s...” you stuttered

  “The new victor?” you nodded nervously, “I’m Gloss.” He seemed to be sizing you up and you weren’t quite sure how to proceed, “you look familiar. Where would I have seen you?” he continued to pry and your mouth began to feel dry

  “He bothering you?” Cato said as he suddenly appeared behind you

  “No, he’s fine. It’s fine, I was just going to get a drink...” you replied, gesturing toward the bar and to Gloss to get him to move aside. He apologized and moved aside while you ordered a drink but when the bartender wouldn’t order you a drink, Cato stepped in

  “Glass of Champagne, Bartender,” he said, “and quick. Before I get angry.” You looked up at him, amazed at how much his presence seemed to compel everyone to listen to him, before smiling and taking a sip of your drink. “What?” he chuckled when he noticed you staring

  “Dance with me” you smiled

  “I don’t know, Delly,” he whined, “people might talk.”

  “People will always talk but we’re here to have fun”

  “One dance.” He caved and you dragged him onto the dance floor. You both moved to the fast-paced music, you laughing at him when he did an old-fashioned dance move, until the music slowed and you awkwardly smiled at him

  “I know you said one dance...” he smiled back at you, moving closer to you and putting your arms on his shoulders while he placed his hands on your hips. His eyes began roaming the club and you tried to bring his attention back to you, if only to calm his nerves, but it didn’t work.

  “We should go. People are staring...” He dropped his hands from your hips, taking your hand and leading you outside where a car was waiting. When you arrived back at his house, he ran ahead of you and you tried to talk to him

  “Cato...” you called, “please, Cato, talk to me.” He stood across from you, eyes trained on yours, and you took a sharp inhale in preparation for what he might say

  “We shouldn’t have been dancing like that. I shouldn’t have brought you there.” He replied sternly

  “Why didn’t you tell me? About what Snow was making you do?” you asked, moving slowly toward him

  “What was I supposed to say? I’m being prostituted by our President so you don’t die?”

  “Yes!” you exclaimed, “because it’s the truth. And it would have made so much more sense than him just bringing me here for no reason.”

  “Well, I didn’t know exactly what to say...” He dropped his eyes to the floor and, for the first time, he seemed so vulnerable. Almost scared.

  “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to. I get it now. I get that he’s got a hold on you and that you’re just as much a prisoner as I felt I was. I’m here to listen, if you need it, but otherwise, I’ll do as you ask and stay here. I won’t complain and I won’t ask questions.”

  “I don’t want you to be miserable...” he confessed and you smiled

  “Just talk to me every once in a while. Make me feel like I’m human and maybe you’ll feel more human, too.”

  “Deal.” He smiled, gently taking your hand in his, rubbing your palm with his thumb before clearing his throat and heading to bed. You weren’t sure what any of tonight meant -- the dance, the kindness he showed you, the way he stood up for you, -- but you hoped that this wasn’t all there was for the two of you.

[nadjaofstatenisland]

will you tell me some hunger games au thoughts pretty please!!!

Alice -  Katniss

Hal - Peeta

FP - Haymitch

Gladys - Gale

Penelope - Effie

Clifford - Snow

Fred - Cinna

Hiram - Finnick

Hermione - Johanna

Tom - Boggs

Sierra - Coin

Mary - Prim?

(we could also explore the parents as other tributes from the 74th games  with Penelope - Foxface, Hermione - Glimmer, Hiram - Marvel, Clifford - Cato, Gladys - Clove, Daryl as the district 3 kid who rigs the platforms to be landmines, FP as Thresh?? and honestly no one is good and pure enough to be Rue... maybe Fred is Rue i dunno)

I won’t lie Mary as Prim isn’t quite right (i think mary is more fun as coin but sierra does fit that bill better) but lets just go with it. Mary’s name is called and Alice volunteers to go in her place. Gladys pulls a screaming Mary away as Alice goes up on stage. Hal is called. They’re off.

FP as their drunk mentor with a laundry list of issues and Penelope as their frantic extra ass escort who can’t take FP very cute. I always enjoyed Effie and Haymitch sassing each other yet coming through for their children tributes and working together when they need to and it that isn’t a FP and Penelope dynamic I don’t know what is.

So much of Katniss and Peeta scream halice. Hal trying to be nice to her and not trusting him and planning his death. Alice also absolutely hating FP and convinced he’s not going to do shit to keep her alive and he’s just going to help Hal. Hal and FP keeping their entire plan away from Alice because they knew she’d fuck it up if she knew about it for real. (which on a side note is how i like to pretend the fbi plot in s3 actually went.) Alice and Hal screaming compliments at each other to FP to make the other look stronger and getting furious at each other. The time Hal told the country he’s in love with Alice and she responded by cutting his hand open with a vase. Hal already knowing he doesn’t have a chance to win (and his confession that his own mother thinks alice has a way better shot than him) and he just hopes being in there doesn’t change him and Alice all FUCK YOU WE CAN’T ALL AFFORD TO HAVE MORALS.

Clifford as Snow because really... the whole rose thing. That’s all I got but it works. Oh, and the white hair. Fred as Cinna, aka the only person Alice can really trust and in turn secretly sets her up to be this symbol of rebellion. Fred always propping his friends up...

Hal working with the careers to save Alice?? To misdirect them from her plans and not let on to what her skill is! Thinking of Hal teaming up with the career pack of Hiram, Hermione, Clifford, and Gladys is very funny to me. And Alice taking out both Hiram and Hermione whew. Nice. Alice going crazy looking for Hal when she realizes they can both live. And HOW DID I FORGOT. That drawing in Hal’s prison cell opened me up to the idea of artist Hal and that’s like Peeta’s whole thing after baking wow.

Very powerful Penelope making it to the end. And her technically dying because of Hal.. sad. He didn’t want that kill. And the finally three being halice and Clifford damn. Alice would absolutely pull some sneaking shit to win and this always ties back to Haymitch and Katniss parallels and Alice and FP ones. Kids from the seam = kids from the southside.

Alice going back and ruining everything with Hal when she realizes he was 100% genuine in everything he did in there. And her feeling like her friendship with Gladys is ruined because Gladys is jealous of Hal ooof. Yet Gladys still helps them train when they find out they’re going back in and her whole speech about how it would be so much easier to hate Hal if he wasn’t so nice... how true is that.

Alice and Hal both half taking care of FP so he doesn’t drink himself to death. Alice throwing a bucket of water on him and IF YOU WANT SOMEONE TO WAKE YOU UP GENTLY CALL HAL and Hal is there with a loaf of bread to wake him up and practically stabs a piece for Alice. 

Hiram as Finnick... look it works okay he’s just as vain. And Hermione as Johanna this cold, jaded woman who refuses to love anyone works really well. Also Hiram constantly flirting with her and Hermione constantly taking her clothes off in front of her because they both get off on making Alice uncomfortable?? I love it. There was no reason for Hermione to strip and oil her breasts to practice wrestling during training but damn if she didn’t do it in front of Alice.

And then the actual games and Alice’s immediate mistrust of them but knowing FP set up some stupid plan with them for her own good. Alice having to watch helplessly as Fred is beaten and killed in front of her... Hiram and Hermione keeping Alice and Hal alive in the games and eventually separating them and therefore them getting taken separately.

Hal and Hermione being tortured in a joining cells while Alice and Hiram suffer from ptsd back in “safety.” Alice being stuff under the watchful eye of Tom while she does Sierra’s bidding and becomes this symbol she didn’t want to be,

OH WHEN ALICE THINKS THEY’RE ALL BEING TAKEN TO THE CAPITOL TO BE MURDERED SHE’S LIKE SWEET SWEET HAL... I NEED TO KILL YOU BEFORE THEY DO and she goes to murder him with an empty syringe... only to find FP and discover his plan and try to kill HIM with it. Also when she finds out what they’re doing in the capitol to Hal and FP is the only one who she’ll accept comfort from because she knows FP is the only one who remotely cares for Hal the way she does. I - 

And their whole reunion when she goes running to him before she realizes he’s been brainwashed and he winds up choking her ouch. Him having all those memories of her distorted. Not knowing what was real or not. His sad “I must have really loved you huh” and she can only nod and even then she can’t say it back because she just doesn’t know. And her fear that the way Hal sees her now is the way the whole world actually sees her that she actually is awful. And Gladys comforting words that of course she’s not that way. Oh and lol at Hal asking her “so Gladys and I were both okay with you kissing the other one? that was all just... cool between us?? umm.”

Gladys discovering she actually has a knack for fighting and makes a pretty good weapons expert/soldier. Mary’s eventual death and Alice realizing that even though they won the war, she lost her own battle and the thing that meant the most to her and she takes a shot and kills Sierra when she knows she was supposed to kill Clifford. (its okay he dies too.) Alice going into herself and giving up on life because if her sister is gone she really doesn’t feel she has anything left to live for. And it’s not for years that Hal comes back and the two of them finally realize the war really is over and while life may not be perfect it doesn’t mean they can’t try to live their lives. Even if it takes them 15 years to marry and have children... okay this was all a mess of a rant but you get the idea...

[hockeysweetheart]

The Kisses   ( I wont get into every single one of them )  there is like  17 in the first book alone between Katniss and Peeta so  all that jazz is in another post I have 

This may contain “bashing” Gale loll

Katniss’s first kiss was with Peeta. He was like If I die ... Katniss is like  don’t talk like that. Peeta is like really tho... Katniss kisses him to shut him up ( Not the last time she’s done this). She was like well this should count for something Because this is the frist time I kissed a boy. They Kissed many times in that arena A few did count for something but here is what Katniss said about a certain one  "Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks myself," he says, and moves in to me. This is the first kiss that we're both fully aware of. Neither of us hobbled by sickness or pain or simply unconscious. Our lips neither burning with fever or icy cold. This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another.  I'm about to leave when I remember the importance of sustaining the star-crossed lover routine and I lean over and give Peeta a long, lingering kiss. I imagine the teary sighs emanating from the Capitol and pretend to brush away a tear of my own.  ( This one was before the kiss that made her feel something) I set a good dinner out, but halfway through Peeta begins to nod off. After days of inactivity, the hunt has taken its toll. I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I'm so grateful that he's still here, not dead by the stream as I'd thought. So glad that I don't have to face Cato alone. 

Okay so they kiss a bit 30 times between all 3 books. Now  Their first kiss after a few months of not went like this.   My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta's direction. Then, as if I can't stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips - he still isn't entirely in command of his artificial leg - and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that's where we have our first kiss in months. It's full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I'm not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won't expose me in front of the cameras. Won't condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He's still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way. I wait for him to mention the baby, to play to the cameras, but he doesn't. And that's how I know that none of this is part of the Games. That he is telling me the truth about what he feels. "No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self-pity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handful of friends. But they will get on. Even Haymitch, with the help of a lot of white liquor, will get on. I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. "I do," I say. "I need you." He looks upset, takes a deep breath as if to begin a long argument, and that's no good, no good at all, because he'll start going on about Prim and my mother and everything and I'll just get confused. So before he can talk, I stop his lips with a kiss. I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. But my head wound started bleeding and he made me lie down. This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.

I don't like the plan any more than Peeta does. How can I protect him at a distance? But Beetee's right. With his leg, Peeta is too slow to make it down the slope in time. Johanna and I are the fastest and most sure-footed on the jungle floor. I can't think of any alternative. And if I trust anyone here besides Peeta, it's Beetee. "It's okay," I tell Peeta. "We'll just drop the coil and come straight back up." "Not into the lightning zone," Beetee reminds me. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o'clock sector. If you find you're running out of time, move over one more. Don't even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage." I take Peeta's face in my hands. "Don't worry. I'll see you at midnight." I give him a kiss and, before he can object any further, I let go and turn to Johanna. "Ready?"

"Leave me," he whispers. "I can't hang on." "Yes. You can!" I tell him. Peeta shakes his head. "I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them." Like the mutts. Like a rabid beast bent on ripping my throat out. And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today. It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me." Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. "No. I don't want to..." I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.   Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that.So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real." 

  It's the way you love me It's a feeling like this It's centrifugal motion It's perpetual blissIt's that pivotal moment It's unthinkable This kiss, this kiss (Unsinkable) This kiss, this kissYou can kiss me in the moonlight On the rooftop under the sky You can kiss me with the windows open While the rain comes pouring inside Kiss me in sweet slow motion Let's let every thing slide You got me floating, you got me flying

( This kiss Faith Hill) 

But When Peeta and Katniss Kiss it’s like wow. Nothing else in the world is there just them and the way Katniss talks about it she enjoys it clearly.  And she made the choice to Kiss Peeta. Like there are other ways to show love then Kissing. But It’s like when she is with him she feels safe and  it’s gonna be alright they could make it through anything together. It’s sadness to when she feels guilty for  shutting each other out but forgiveness. She has this moment where she can barley look at his lips after the Beach scene. 

I sit next to Peeta on the sand to eat my rolls. For some reason, it's difficult to look at him. Maybe it was all that kissing last night, although the two of us kissing isn't anything new. It might not even have felt any different for him. Maybe it's knowing the brief amount of time we have left. And how we're working at such cross-purposes when it comes to who should survive these Games.

That is because she knows what comes out of that mouth  Peeta will know that Katniss still wants to die for him. And whatever Peeta says can Make sense for her to agree to and she  wants this for Peeta to live not her in that moment.  

The Beach Kiss my god. That’s a kiss you feel like okay give them their space but Can’t look away from.  

Katniss kissing Gale and It went like this

By the time we were at the hole in the fence that's nearest the Hob, I think I really believed that things could be the same. That we could go on as we always had. I'd given all the game to Gale to trade since we had so much food now. I told him I'd skip the Hob, even though I was looking forward to going there, because my mother and sister didn't even know I'd gone hunting and they'd be wondering where I was. Then suddenly, as I was suggesting I take over the daily snare run, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. I was completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I'd spent with Gale - watching him talk and laugh and frown - that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which could set the most intricate of snares, could as easily entrap me. I think I made some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I vaguely remember my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest. Then he let go and said, "I had to do that. At least once." And he was gone.Despite the fact that the sun was setting and my family would be worried, I sat by a tree next to the fence. I tried to decide how I felt about the kiss, if I had liked it or resented it, but all I really remembered was the pressure of Gale's lips and the scent of the oranges that still lingered on his skin. It was pointless comparing it with the many kisses I'd exchanged with Peeta. I still hadn't figured out if any of those counted. Finally I went home. That week I managed the snares and dropped off the meat with Hazelle. But I didn't see Gale until Sunday. I had this whole speech worked out, about how I didn't want a boyfriend and never planned on marrying, but I didn't end up using it. Gale acted as if the kiss had never happened.Maybe he was waiting for me to say something. Or kiss him back. Instead I just pretended it had never happened, either. But it had. Gale had shattered some invisible barrier between us and, with it, any hope I had of resuming our old, uncomplicated friendship. Whatever I pretended, I could never look at his lips in quite the same way.  Life in District 12 isn't really so different from life in the arena. At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it. Well, it's not hard for Gale. He was born a rebel. I'm the one making an escape plan. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. I lean forward and kiss him. His eyelashes flutter and he looks at me through a haze of opiates. "Hey, Catnip." "Hey, Gale," I say. "Thought you'd be gone by now," he says. My choices are simple. I can die like quarry in the woods or I can die here beside Gale. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble." "Me, too," Gale says. He just manages a smile before the drugs pull him back under.When the cabinets are empty, I rise to find that Gale has materialized in my kitchen. It's disturbing how soundlessly he can appear. He's leaning on the table, his fingers spread wide against the wood grain. I set the box between us. "Remember?" he asks. "This is where you kissed me.So the heavy dose of morphling administered after the whipping wasn't enough to erase that from his consciousness. "I didn't think you'd remember that," I say"Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then," he tells me. "Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over, I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes, and misery. It's a surprising flavor for such a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and gives me a wry smile. "I knew you'd kiss me." "How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself."Because I'm in pain," he says. "That's the only way I get your attention." He picks up the box. "Don't worry, Katniss. It'll pass." He leaves before I can answer. 

So The best part about this is When Katniss kissed Gale shes like I hope to god he doesn’t remember this... But when he does Katniss is like oh shit 

So heres is the final kiss  Between these two. 

Gale makes a sound of exasperation. Nonetheless, after we've dropped off the birds and volunteered to go back to the woods to gather kindling for the evening fire, I find myself wrapped in his arms. His lips brushing the faded bruises on my neck, working their way to my mouth. Despite what I feel for Peeta, this is when I accept deep down that he'll never come back to me. Or I'll never go back to him. I'll stay in 2 until it falls, go to the Capitol and kill Snow, and then die for my trouble. And he'll die insane and hating me. So in the fading light I shut my eyes and kiss Gale to make up for all the kisses I've withheld, and because it doesn't matter anymore, and because I'm so desperately lonely I can't stand it. Gale's touch and taste and heat remind me that at least my body's still alive, and for the moment it's a welcome feeling. I empty my mind and let the sensations run through my flesh, happy to lose myself. When Gale pulls away slightly, I move forward to close the gap, but I feel his hand under my chin. "Katniss," he says. The instant I open my eyes, the world seems disjointed. This is not our woods or our mountains or our way. My hand automatically goes to the scar on my left temple, which I associate with confusion. "Now kiss me." Bewildered, unblinking, I stand there while he leans in and presses his lips to mine briefly. He examines my face closely. "What's going on in your head?" "I don't know," I whisper back. "Then it's like kissing someone who's drunk. It doesn't count," he says with a weak attempt at a laugh. He scoops up a pile of kindling and drops it in my empty arms, returning me to myself. "How do you know?" I say, mostly to cover my embarrassment. "Have you kissed someone who's drunk?" I guess Gale could've been kissing girls right and left back in 12. He certainly had enough takers. I never thought about it much before. He just shakes his head. "No. But it's not hard to imagine." "So, you never kissed any other girls?" I ask. "I didn't say that. You know, you were only twelve when we met. And a real pain besides. I did have a life outside of hunting with you," he says, loading up with firewood. Suddenly, I'm genuinely curious. "Who did you kiss? And where?" "Too many to remember. Behind the school, on the slag heap, you name it," he says. I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?" "No. About six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded," he tells me.

I am no love expert But that might not be the time you bring up I kissed other women up just saying... and saying You kissed Better pretty much my god.   When they Kiss tho it’s like seeing a car accident your not involved in but you can’t help but peak then regreat it. The fact he made Katniss feel so bad for kissing one guy  when your  like Drake Parker from Drake and Josh.  ( If you don’t know he dated many women on that show) Also the fact you say you  were interested in her 6 months prior games. Didn’t make a move until after She kissed Peeta 17 Plus times. And now you want to be more friends thats how you want to play. Oh Hell no.  She doesn’t love you like that buddy...  No wonder she’s confused af.  Like she only kissed Gale because he was making her feel guilty

[randomfandomfamily]

Idk if your currently doing requests or not, but... Sheryl comforting Little Cato??? Can be from a nightmare, panic attack, whatever your up for. :) 🧡🍪

---

Not gonna lie, this one was fun to write. I love writing Sheryl slowly getting better at people-ing, whether she knows it or not.

“So we just left Clarence there because he’s a total crapwad,” Little Cato said, in the process of catching Sheryl up on what had happened with Clarence, “And then we remembered that we never actually returned Chucky and he was still just hanging out on the ship.”

Sheryl raised an eyebrow. “So...what happened to Chucky?” She took a screwdriver and started replacing the metal plating they had taken off. They were making great strides with the repairs, and she was getting caught up on things she missed between her betrayals.

Little Cato shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. We kinda just… let him go? He probably flew back to his owner. Maybe. I hope.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys managed to ditch Clarence, anyway.” Sheryl frowned. “Disgusting little man, wasn’t he?”

Little Cato hummed. “That’s a nice word for him, I guess. I’ve got about a thousand others I’d like to-"

‘Promximity alert!’ AVA’s voice boomed, ‘Unidentifiable debris is headed for the ship!’

Sheryl and Little Cato were, luckily, already on the bridge with their repairs. “What do you mean ‘unidentifiable debris’?!” Sheryl asked while Little Cato headed for the controls.

‘We’re in an unexplored nightmare dimension,’ AVA said snidely, ‘Everything in here is unidentifiable.’

“Thank you, AVA!” Little Cato said, gripping the back of the captain’s chair. “Where is everyone else?”

‘On their way to the bridge to meet you,’ AVA replied, ‘But they won’t make it before we reach the debris.’

Little Cato exhaled slowly, jumping into the pilot’s seat. “Alright… I got this.”

Sheryl merely stood at Little Cato’s side. Yeah, she was probably the better pilot of the two of them, but only by a slim margin. She prepared to assist where she could, but she knew the kid could handle it.

She had been doing repairs with this kid for weeks. They’d grown… close? Which was almost foreign to her. She wasn’t sure if there was anyone else on the ship she trusted this much, aside from maybe Gary, and even that trust was a little touch-and-go. But she’d spent enough time with Little Cato to know he was honest about his abilities. If he said he could do it, then he could.

So Sheryl watched as Little Cato reached for the controls, gripping them tightly. She held the back of the chair, prepared for the sharp turns he was going to have to take to avoid the hazardous obstacles outisde.

Then she realized the ship wasn’t turning, still heading directly for the ominous black masses in the distance. “What are you doing?” She looked down and saw Little Cato staring down at the controls. “Kid, you have to steer the ship.”

“I… I can’t…” He sounded almost as shocked as she felt.

“What?” Sheryl asked. “Why-” She halted mid-sentence when he noticed Little Cato’s hands start to shake. “Whoa whoa whoa, hey.” Sheryl put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “What’s goin’ on with ya?”

Little Cato shook his head. “I can’t do this. Not again, I can’t. It’s…” The shock was starting to sound a lot like fear the more he talked. “I- no. I can’t do it, I can’t…”

They were getting close to hitting those things. Much closer than Sheryl was comfortable with. “Kid, tell me what’s wrong.” They just barely glided past a dark mass. “Little Cato!” Sheryl put her hands over his and turned the ship away from another incoming threat. “Come on, talk to me!”

She took a moment to scoop the young Ventrexian out of the pilot’s seat. He didn’t protest, but he didn’t exactly make it easy either, his hands practically glued to the controls.

But she managed to get him detached, setting him beside her. “Alright, now just stand here and-” The ship jerked violently, alarms blaring and red lights flashing. “Crikey!”

Little Cato seemed to momentarily snap out of his trance. “W-what happened?”

“We hit one of the damn things.” Sheryl hopped into the pilot’s seat and turned the ship. “AVA! Status update on the ship!”

‘There are no major damages to the ship, but the impact has triggered a lockdown sequence.’

“What?” Little Cato asked. “Lock… lockdown?” Sheryl spared a glance at him. It was a normal protocol. The ship hits a thing, the ship has to make sure no one goes flying about, so the ship locks the doors. Why was he freaking out so bad? The doors would open up again just as soon as the ship was out of danger.

Her two seconds of distraction cost her, the side of the ship clipping another black mass. “Ah, shit!” A startled shout from Little Cato made her panic momentarily. “Kid, are you alright?” The lack of an answer made her worry. “Say somethin’, mate!” Another long string of curses left her mouth as she steered. She didn’t have eyes on the kid, but he was quiet, wherever he was.

“Bloody hell, will these buggers never end?!” She pulled up to avoid the last of the strange debris. “AVA, is that the last of it?”

‘All clear.’ AVA confirmed.

Sheryl sighed. “Thank Christ.” She stood and glanced around. “Oi, kid! Where’d you go?”

A faint sound made her look to the weapons’ control panel. She walked over and knocked on the top of it. “You alright there? I know it was a bumpy ride, but-” The sound of crying made her pause. “Oh… um…”

She knelt on the floor and peered under the control panel. Little Cato, if at all possible, seemed to scramble back farther into the small space. “Don’t-”

“Whoa, easy there mate, I’m not gonna do nothing.” Sheryl sat back, scooting away from Little Cato a bit to give him space.

She didn’t know what to do about this. Little Cato was always so upbeat. Optimistic. He took on anything, and he had the drive to see it through. This, however, was a very different side of Little Cato. This was unfamiliar territory, and almost kind of scary. It made her wish somebody else was here to help him.

But nobody else was there. Which meant she was going to have to try. “Um… the ship’s safe now. We’re gonna be on lockdown for just a few more minutes, though. But we can find your dads when the doors open up, yeah?”

Little Cato shook his head. “But I- the… the shards.”

Sheryl frowned. “What shards?”

“The time shards! I-I saw…” Little Cato shook his head violently, like he was trying to erase something. “No, nothing. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He certainly wasn’t fine. Sheryl was pretty sure he was very far away from fine. “There’s no time shards,” she said, “I dunno what they were exactly, but they weren’t time shards.” She held out a hand. “Come on outta there, alright? We’re in the clear now.”

Little Cato took her hand shakily, slowly emerging out from under the panel. “Is it… really all clear?”

“AVA said it was.”

“That’s what she said last time too,” Little Cato whispered.

Sheryl put an arm around his shoulders. That was a reassuring thing, right? “Last time? What do you mean ‘last time’?” She started putting pieces together slowly. “Did you… have a run in with some time shards?”

Little Cato’s breathing picked up and he started shaking. “Hey, whoa, calm down there, mate. I’m sorry I asked.”

He scrubbed at his eyes. “We’re gonna get out of here, right?”

She was a little taken aback. The kid knew the lockdown protocol would time out in a few minutes. Was he really that scared? “‘Course we are,” Sheryl said, “Just a few minutes.”

“I don’t wanna be stuck in here. I can’t… I can’t do this again…” Little Cato pulled his knees up to his chest. “I want my dads.”

Sheryl sometimes forgot that Little Cato was just a kid. In fact, she was sure damn near everyone on the ship forgot it at some point. It was easy to forget, what with him running around doing repairs and fighting Titans.

“I hope this won’t send ya panickin’ again, but I am kinda curious about this last time you keep going on about.” Little Cato stiffened. “It’s okay if you can’t talk about it. I’m not gonna make ya.”

Little Cato took a breath. “It’s not… it’s not much to talk about, really. I was steering the ship through some time shards. AVA said I missed them all. But I didn’t.”

“You hit one of ‘em?”

“Yeah… I got stuck.” Little Cato hugged his knees tighter. “A-and I guess I should just be thankful Gary didn’t get stuck in there with me, but it still kinda sucked… being all by myself.”

Sheryl was almost afraid to ask but, “Do you remember any of it?”

“All sixty years of it,” Little Cato muttered. He tugged at his hair anxiously. “Kinda stupid, huh? You’d figure after sixty years of being alone, I’d be used to it. I should be able to handle a few minutes of being locked in here.”

“Well, I think that’s just dumb.” Sheryl pulled the kid closer to her. “I don’t think anyone should have to be used to being alone. Hell, I was drifting about for ages trying to get John back. All because I couldn’t stand the thought of being by myself.”

He sighed. “That’s different.”

“Well, of course it’s bloody different,” Sheryl said, “I’m a grown woman who was dumb enough to believe a Titan could give me my husband back. I made my own loneliness, you never asked for yours.”

“I guess.” He rested his forehead against his knees. “Still feels like- I don’t know… like I should be better.”

That’s when it really hit Sheryl for the first time. Literally everyone on the ship forgot Little Cato was a kid. Even Little Cato. No, especially Little Cato.

Everyone else had the luxury of giving Little Cato a good long look and remembering that, despite his capability, the spunky small fry was a kid. Little Cato didn’t have that luxury. Because unlike everyone else aboard the Crimson Light, he had the memories.

“I think you should be a little easier on yourself,” Sheryl said, “I know your dads wouldn’t want to hear you talking like this.”

Little Cato laughed half-heartedly. “You’re probably right.” He dragged his hands down his face. “Okay, I can do this. Everything is fine.”

Sheryl ruffled his hair. “You can be fine when Gary and Avocato get here. You can be not fine for another minute or two, alright? There’s no rush.”

He smiled reluctantly and leaned into her side. “Okay… but only for a minute or two.”

“Only for a minute or two,” Sheryl agreed. Though she would have gladly sat with him longer if he needed her to.

[pitterpatterpot]

Giant Mice?

Sheryl will admit that the change is… disorientating.

The purple-haired ghost girl definitely isn’t happy that Sheryl is her new roommate. Sheryl isn’t happy that she’s stuck will a little alien who nearly blows her head off every time she has a nightmare and randomly shoots purple fire.

The Tryvuulian edges around her, giving nervous smiles as he tries to strike up conversations. HUE does the same before awkwardly waddling away, Mooncake usually floating after him. AVA insults her to her face, not that Sheryl really minds.

Gary is trying, truely trying, to get along with his mother. There are times where Sheryl sees him flinch away from her, but overall her son seems to enjoy their conversations about piloting. She doesn’t doubt it, she knows how long he must have wanted to have a conversation with his mother without her trying to kill him. If anything, she’s the one that struggles during their talks.

Quinn is…

Sheryl is unsure of what to make of Quinn. She reminds Sheryl of John, which hurts more than the thief would like to admit. Quinn edges around Sheryl in a similar manner, not knowing the full story between her and Gary. The poor lady seems torn between wanting Gary’s mother to like her and being cautious of the criminal.

Avocato has been indifferent ever since Sheryl tried to distract him with a red dot. Really though, floating through Final Space can be quite boring. She needed some kind of entertainment. Barely-repressed hostility seems to be the only thing between them.

There’s only one person she hasn’t really interacted with yet.

“Hey, Grandma.”

And there’s a good reason for that.

Plastering on a smile, Sheryl swivels around in the pilots seat. “Hey… kiddo.”

The small Ventrexian hops into the seat to the right, tapping away at the screen. If there’s one thing Sheryl has to admit it’s that the kid knows how to fly. But being called Grandma? She’s still getting used to Mom.

“Are the primary thrusters online?” Little Cato perks up, eyes big and wide as he looks at her.

“Uh… yep.”

“Cool, cool… whydon’tyousoundlikeGary?”

The kid says it so fast Sheryl has to blink. “What?”

“You, um,” Little Cato’s ears droop slightly, his eyes flickering away. “You sound different to Gary. He said you have an accent.”

Ah, right. Most aliens learn American English. Her Aussie accent must sound weird to the kid.

“It’s ‘cause I’m from Australia,” Sheryl keeps her focus on the controls. “We speak English there too, but different from America.”

“America?”

“The place Gary is from. It’s a country on Earth.”

“Oh, cool.”

Sheryl waits for another question, but the kid stays silent. They both fiddle with the controls, the ship slowly following Bolo through Final Space, everyone on edge as they wait to come across the first Titan besides Bolo.

“We have kangaroo’s in Australia.”

“Huh?”

Sheryl winces, regretting the words. “They’re a, uh, an animal. Kind of like a giant, jumping mouse.”

Preparing to face the kid, she turns slightly in her seat. And immediately swears at the large eyes of the kid blinking right at her. Somewhere during the giant mouse moment the kid had left his seat and padded over to her, leaning with his hands against her arm rests and eyes wide with wonder.

“Jesus Christ,” Sheryl hisses, clamping a hand over her heart. “You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

She gets a little shrug in response, the kid leaning in closer. “Giant mice?”

Sighing, the thief settles back in her seat. “Yeah, kid. Giant mice. Most are red, like a rusty red, and some are kind of blue and gray. Depends on the kind.”

“Whoa,” the little Ventrexian breathes the word. “Giant, colourful mice? Can you eat them?”

Now that throws Sheryl off for a moment, making her laugh. “Uh, yeah. We can eat kangaroo meat. It’s actually pretty good. I’d never eat a joey though.”

“Joey? Is that, like, a person?”

“No,” Sheryl snorts. “It’s a baby kangaroo. Their mum’s keep them in a pouch they have on their belly to carry them around.”

“Huh,” Little Cato rests his head on his arms. “My dad’s carry me around sometimes. Usually on their shoulders.”

“I noticed,” Sheryl smiles slightly. “You’re a light one, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah,” those little ears droop again. “I didn’t really eat properly for a while. I’m kind of small for my age.”

“What, did Gary forget to feed you?” Sheryl smirks, chuckling. “Or let me guess, only gave you cookies?”

She expects some kind of comeback. Not for the kid to shuffle on his feet and look away. It makes something oily roll in her stomach, a weird feeling that’s been occurring more frequently lately ever since she decided to stop trying to kill her son. So far the feeling has only been restricted to when she’s dealing with Gary and her past mistakes. It can’t be a good thing if that feeling is spreading to the kid.

“What?” Sheryl rotates the seat to face the kid. “When didn’t you eat?”

“I…uh…” Little Cato winces. “I kind of spent three years in prison? Well, different prisons. They had to move me around a lot.”

Sheryl blinks.

And blinks again.

“You went to prison?”

“Yeah,” Little Cato shrugs once again. “The Lord Commander placed me there to keep me from my dad. I was in the Sector F8 military base until I started a small fire, then got moved to the Sector 472 prison colony, and after my third escape attempt there they decided to just keep moving me.”

For the first time, in a long time, Sheryl laughs. Her head tips back and the sound bellows out of her lungs. Little Cato jerks back, surprised, before starting to giggle along. It isn’t long before they’re both cackling.

“Crickey,” Sheryl wheezes, tears nearly squeezing out of her eyes. “You little bastard! You’re a demon!”

“Yeah, and?” Little Cato raises his brows, grinning.

Sheryl looks the kid over. The Ventrexian that Gary trusted to fix the light-fold engines, that obviously knows his way around mechanics. And that has obviously raised hell in his short life-time.

“And have you ever hot-wired a ship before?” Sheryl smirks.

“No,” the kid pivotes around to poke at Sheryl’s controls. “Always wanted to learn. Just don’t tell my dads.”

“I think we can make that work. Alright, so what you’re gonna want to do is remove this panel here…”

~~~

“Uh, Mom?” Gary eyes the second plate in his mother’s hand, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. “What are you doing?”

Sheryl throws a look over her shoulder. “I’m showing that kid of yours how to really pilot. We need fuel.”

“We’re in Final Space, now isn’t the time for a lesson!”

“All times are good times, sweetheart.”

~~~

“So,” Little Cato speaks around a mouthful of what has been deemed the ‘purple yams’ by Gary. “You’re pretty good at fighting.”

“Thanks,” Sheryl throws a glance to the kid, relaxed in the pilot’s chair. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you call me ‘grandma’?”

“Because Gary is my dad,” Little Cato shrugs. “Or at least one of them. And he loves you and wants you to be his mom. That makes you my grand-mom. Or, you know, grandma.”

“Huh, it’s that easy for you?” Sheryl taps against the arm rest of the chair.

“I guess,” Little Cato fiddles with a loose screw. “I can stop calling you that if you want.”

“…Nah, it’s alright. Say, kiddo, you mind passing me that screwdriver? We should probably keep that panel from falling off.”

“I’ll fix it.”

“Thanks.”

They spend the next few minutes fiddling with the systems, Sheryl checking over the systems as Little Cato fixes all loose screws. After a while Sheryl pauses for a moments, blinking, annoyed when she struggles to open her eyes again. A yawn from the kid sets her off, her jaw clicking.

“Alright,” Sheryl stands, cracking her back in a stretch. “I’m gonna go get Gary to take over. I’m hitting the hay.”

“’Kay,” Little Cato mumbles, finishing the last screw.

Sheryl pauses at the doorway, sending one last look at the kid. She can see his fuzzy ears, the rest of him hidden by the pilot’s chair. The orange tips are drooping slightly and she knows that the little Ventrexian is slouched. The door clicks behind her as she makes her way to the dining room, where everyone most likely is. Take your shift, sleep, then eat. No doubt Gary is having breakfast with the rest.

Now that she thinks about, Sheryl took the shift that no one else wanted to avoid everyone. The kid shouldn’t have been awake.

Shaking the thought out of her herd, Sheryl pokes her head into the dining room. “Hey, hun, I’m hitting the hay.”

“Oh,” Gary looks up from his plate, blinking. “Cool. Uh, thanks, Mom. I’ll take over.”

Before she leaves, Sheryl looks to the adult Ventrexian with the name that sound like an Earth fruit, Avocado… Avocato. “Hey, your son’s asleep in the control room. He’s been there for hours.”

Swearing under his breath the Ventrexian stands immediately, hurrying past Sheryl. Garry gives his mother a long look before he begins to smile. She tries to ignore it for the first few minutes. Her skin begins to crawl.

“So, you talked to Little Cato?” Gary grins, leaning forward with his arms braced on the table.

“Oh, yeah,” Sheryl smiles over her shoulder, her usual aloof yet sarcastic tone in place. “I did. Oh, and just a quick warning, hun. Don’t be surprised if the kid starts asking about giant mice.”

“Giant- Mom, what were you talking about? Mom?”

Sheryl closes the door behind her, smirking.

The kid isn’t so bad.

________

I like to imagine that Sheryl and Little Cato would eventually get along. Also, it is so good to have an Australian character. I don’t need to worry about keeping her speech and dialect American. 

[wreckofawriter]

See you around One.

Pairing: Marvel x reader

Word Count: 3,866

Warnings: Swearing? Implied smut?

Request: Hello! I have searched everywhere, trying to find an imagine or fic for my boi Marvel. When I came across your blog and finding out you could write about him, my heart- I thought of a x reader insert where the reader is from another district and she catches Marvels attention, the other careers tease him about his crush and the night before the games they meet up and kiss or sumn else 👀 Thank you :)

A/n: ok so. All of this might not be accurate from the books but like idc. Umm sorry this took so long to come out, hope you guys like it.

Marvel had never been a very romantic boy. He had never liked a girl past the thought of her being hot, he had never wished for a girl in more than a sexual way and he sure as hell never dated a girl. 

He stuck to himself in the academy and focused on training, it was easier that way. But here he was finding himself staring helplessly at you again and again, his eyes tracing over your body as you twirled a knife in your hand before thrusting it at a target, as always lodging itself into the red circle on its head. 

"Marvel!" Cato yelled clapping his hands together to gain the boys attention. 

Marvel tore his gaze away from you and glared at the other boy. 

"What?" He asked sharply, visibly annoyed with the other careers. 

"Can you please at least try and focus on something besides Four's ass?" Glimmer scoffed, "It makes us look weak." 

"Please Glimmer the only thing making us look weak is your poor attempt at a shot," Marvel mumbled, "Now hand me that bow so you know what hitting a target is." 

Glimmer rolled her eyes handing the boy the bow before walking off to talk with Clove. 

Once she left he took a few shots before letting his eyes wander back to you. He knew it was wrong, but he could help himself. 

He had first seen you in person just before the chariot parade and he had felt his breath leave his body. 

You had been dressed in a maroon strapless bikini with a fishnet dress hanging loosely over your body. Your hair had been half up half down, curled slightly at the ends. 

The boy had been in a daze the whole parade, he couldn't focus when he could run his eyes over so much of your smooth y/s/c skin. It was definitely true what they said, district four had the most attractive tributes.

Marvel was snapped from his daze when you began to head towards him. He quickly turned his gaze from you and back towards the targets attempting to ignore the color trickling up his neck. He knocked  another arrow, pulled back the string and released. It wasn't a perfect shot but it was okay.

You were now beside him and he felt his cheeks rise in temperature. 

"You almost done with that?" You asked, your voice strong and sharp. 

Marvel turned towards you. Your hair hanging in a Dutch braid a few strands falling into your face. The tight shirt and pants you were wearing brought attention to your curves, your y/e/c eyes shining dangerously. Your eyebrows were raised in anticipation, arms crossed, waiting for an answer. 

"Almost." Marvel shrugged causing you to roll your eyes impatiently. 

The tribute grabbed a final arrow all to aware of your judicious eyes watching him carefully. He once again knocked an arrow, pulling back the string and releasing smoothly.

You snorted quietly, trying to control your laughter.

Marvel turned back towards you his intense hazel eyes narrowed, "What?"

"Your doing it wrong." You laughed biting your deliciously pink lips. 

"How would you know?" He asked scornfully. 

"Well just from looking at one shot I can tell you're not floating your aim, your trying to pin-point it, which wont work well. You need to follow through mentally and focus in more in the smaller range your trying to hit" You smirked, "Also your grip is way too tight, you need to relax your hand." 

Marvel attempted to mask his embarrassment with annoyance, "Is that all?" He drawled sarcastically despite his cheeks flashing crimson. 

"Nope," You popped the 'p' in your lips. "You also should only use two fingers to pull back the string, you may feel like you have more power when you use three, but it fucks with your aim." 

"Oh." 

You laughed again, Marvel had never heard such a sweet sound. "Can I have the bow now?" 

He nodded handing you the weapon, his face red, ego damaged. 

You knocked an arrow pulling back the string and releasing, hitting the target square in the chest. 

The embarrassed boy turned to leave but was stopped by you voice, "It also helps if you focus on your shot instead of on the girl throwing knives across the room."

Marvel blushed deeply and looked at anything but you, his gaze landed on the group of three who were now laughing and giggling behind their hands at him. His eyes were brought back to you when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. 

"I'm kidding you know, I don't really mind the staring, its refreshing." You shrugged. 

"You don't get stared at often?" Marvel said in disbelief. 

"I do, just usually by men twice my age or slimy creeps, not…" your voice trailed off as your eyes traced his body, "attractive young men." 

"Oh." Marvel repeated his face warmer than it had ever been before, he noticed a bit of color in yours as well. 

You knocked another arrow firing at the target to the left, "Also, I've seen you with a spear, your really good." 

"Thanks." Marvel mumbled scratching the back of his neck. 

"You'll have to give me some tips some time." Another arrow, this time at the target to the far right. "I can't throw a spear for shit." 

"Y-yeah, sure." Marvel stuttered feeling his heart rate pick up at the idea of talking to you again. 

"It's been fun talking to you Marvel, it's nice to know not all of the careers as assholes." You murmured nodding your head at the group of teenagers laughing at a young girl on the climbing wall.

"You too y/n." He paused before adding, "Good to know I have someone besides assholes to talk to." 

"See you around One." You smiled before setting down the bow and heading over to a rope climbing section. Marvel watched you leave in a daze a small smile twitching on his lips.

The smile disappeared quickly when the group of three began to make their way towards him. 

"How was your little chat lover boy?" Clove sneered. 

"None of your business Clove." The boy murmured walking towards a rack of swords.

"Oh he's all bitter now that his girlfriend left." Glimmer pouted humorously. 

"She's not my girlfriend." Marvel grumbled angrily, picking up a short Dao sword with leather handle. 

"Oh but you wish she was." Clove snickered. 

"Trust me your going to be happy that she isnt when were in the arena and I drive a knife through her pretty little ne-" Catos words were cut off when a sword was suddenly thrust centimeters from his neck. Glimmer gasped Clove room an instinctive step backwards.

"I'd watch what you say if I were you." Marvel hissed his voice low and dark, "Wouldn't want to get hurt now would we?"

Cato leaned forward, almost touching his neck to the sharp blade, "You need to get a hold on your emotions One, or you'll get yourself killed over some stupid girl." He spat. 

Marvels eyes darkened with rage but before any action could be taken the boys were pulled apart, the blade pushed from Marvels hand. 

You watched from your perch in the netting strug along the ceiling. You hadn't heard Marvels words but you couldn't help but smile as you watched a blade was put to Catos neck. You hoped you would be the one to get him in the arena.

The next time you and Marvel spoke was the day after the fight as you stood in line waiting for your turn to throw knives. 

You nodded your head sending silent respect to Clove. She may have been a complete bitch but she definitely had some skill. 

"You're better than her you know." Marvel stated, suddenly appearing next to you. 

"I don't know about that, but I do know I'm better than you." You smiled, turning to face the boy. He had been the first to throw, they were on target but the rotation was off causing the handle to hit the target instead of the blade. 

"Well, you are definitely better than Clove, she can hit some but she misses quite often as well. I've never seen you miss." 

"I've never seen her miss." You shrugged taking a step forward as the boy from three reached for a knife. 

"Well I have." Marvel smirked, "How did you get so good with knives? I thought tributes from four were supposed to be good with tridents and spears?"

You snorted, "We all know that spears are your thing One." 

"Well, why are you so good with knives and a bow? We all know that not fours thing." 

You sighed, "My dad cleaned fish for a living, I have been around knives my whole life. They are definitely different types but once you get good with a blade, it's easy to pick up another. I started throwing when I was nine, my dad got me a set of throwing knives for my birthday." 

Marvel nodded, he wondered what it would have been like if he hadn't trained in an academy for most of his life, what would he be good at then? 

"And I'm good with a bow because I have always been terrible with a spear. I used to use arrows with fishing line attached to fish instead. I got really good at it." 

"Cool." Marvel nodded he opened his mouth to continue the conversation but was cut off.

"District Four!" The trainer shouted. 

"See you around One." You smirked before stepping and forward grabbing the set of knives, standing on the platform to wait for the targets to light up.

 You could feel four sets of eyes boring into you, you turned to see all four Careers staring at you. Cloves mouth twitched into a sneer her eyes narrowed. 

You glared back before turning back to the targets.

You took a deep breath in and waited. The second the target lit up red you sent a blade into its chest where it landed with a thump. The next target lit up and a knife lodged itself into its head. Another target and you released a blade with perfect aim.

 You took in a deep breath, the last targets were two at once. Clove had to take one shot then the other because she couldn't throw with her left but you were used to throwing with your left hand. 

Both targets lit at once and you released a knife from each hand, hitting both in the head. You smirked looking back at the careers, Clove shrugged raising her eyebrows, Glimmer rolled her eyes and Cato was glaring at Marvel who had a lopsided smile plastered on his face. 

"You were right." You said as you descended from the platform. "I am better than Clove." 

The next two weeks were a constant flirtatious banter between you and Marvel. You would tell small stories to each other about your family's or your interests. Just quick things while you were waiting in line or practicing side by side. You would both sprinkle suggestive remarks and various complements into your conversations making the other blush as well. 

You could still feel his eyes locked on you when you spared with a trainer or climbed the wall, but it's not like you didn't stare. You had found your self following his movements as he thrust a spear into a target or admiring his muscular form as he pinned a trainer to the ground, he sure as hell wasn't ugly. 

Marvel got into one more fight before the games. It was four days before the game, the boy from district eight had been hovering around you all day, chatting and training with you. Marvel had been on nerve since he had seen the boy graze his hand along your arm that morning. 

"Somebody's jealous." Glimmer cooed as Marvels jaw clenched watching as the boy from eight showed you how to grip an axe. 

"I am not jealous." Marvel scoffed reaching for the next spear angrily and thrusting it at the target. 

"Oh please," Glimmer snickered, "a blind man could see it, your jealous because another boy is flirting with your girlfriend." 

"She's not my-

"Yeah, yeah we know, we've been over it." Clove interrupted rolling his eyes. "Catos right you know." 

"Never heard that sentence before." Marvel jeered grabbing another spear and thrusting it at the target. 

"Well he is, you need to get your emotions in check before they check you." Clove stated looking back up at Marvel who's eyes and attention was elsewhere. 

The girls followed his gaze to you and Eight just as you bent over to pick up an axe you dropped. Eights eyes danced over you hungrily before reaching out and grabbing your ass. Marvel dropped the spear he was holding with a loud clang, the two girls glanced at each other knowing this wasn't going to end well.

You spun around anger radiating from you, your eyes dark and dangerous, fists clenched. 

The boy put his hands up in surrender "Sorry." He scoffed, "I just thought you were an easy fuck." 

Your fist connected with his jaw wand he sprawled to the ground,his hand flying to his jaw. You were about to advance on him once more but Marvel beat you to it. 

He grabbed the boy off the ground lifting him by his shirt into the air, "You touch her again and I will kill you before you even get a chance to look at the arena." Marvel snarled his eyes narrowed. 

He threw the boy to the ground and began to advance on him but was pushed back by a man in white body armor. 

"Step back! I said step back!" 

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, I'm back." Marvel spoke harshly backing away his hands raised. His gaze softened when he turned to you only to be met with anger. 

Your eyes were set in an icy stare but much to Marvel's surprise it was directed straight at him.  

"Y/n?" He asked softly, taking a step towards you. 

You scoffed turning and walking away from the tribute. 

You had effectively ignored Marvel for two days, and he had no idea why. 

It made him angry, confused and  heartbroken. You wouldn't even look at him, the feeling of your eyes lingering over him disappeared completely after the fight. 

Cato and Glimmer tried to convince him to forget about you and move on and he tried, he kept telling himself it was stupid to start to like you anyway, you would be trying to kill each other in a matter of days. He thought if he had time away from you it would be easier in the arena. 

He was terribly wrong, your complete absence made things worse, he found himself imagining your touch and taste more than ever now. He had dreams about you, they varied from kissing you to killing you. Some gave him relief when he awoke, others made him wish he had stayed asleep. He missed your small chats, your cunning smile and your sweet laughter desperately. 

You sat in the private sessions waiting room running the plan you and your mentor had made over and over again in your head. He had said if you got a nine or over he could get you some sponsors. So that's what you were going to do.

You were tapping your foot nervously when the door at the front swung open to reveal Marvel, a thin layer of sweat made his face shine his dusty blonde hair was a tousled mess he glanced at you his hazel eyes locking with your y/e/c ones for just a second before yours darted away. 

The next time you saw each other was before your interviews. You were adorned in a white and blue top that reached just before your belly button with a matching skirt that had two slits in the fabric where your legs were, making the skirts material fall around your skin. Gold painted swirls twisted around your arms and legs paired with golden dots at the corner of your eyes and a golden tiara to match. 

It took everything in Marvel not to slam you against the wall and kiss you right there, but he kept his composure and calmly made his way over to you much to the other careers amusement. 

When you saw him coming you turned to leave but were stopped by his voice. 

"Please y/n, just listen to me." He begged making you turn to face him. Marvel was in a blue and yellow tux, his hair combed back neatly his eyes desperate and longing. 

"What?" you snapped harshly.

Marvel smiled a bit, he hadn't even expected you to speak to him. "You look amazi-" 

"Don't attempt to flatter me Marvel, what do you want?" You hissed despite the color rising in your cheeks. 

He leaned in close to you, his breath on your neck making you shiver. "Meet me near the elevator on the second floor at midnight tonight." He whispered, "Please." 

Marvel then walked back to the front of the line. He heard giggles from Clove and turned to face her. When he turned Cato got down to his knees in front of Clove. "Oh please, y/n please talk to me, I'm so desperately in love with you please." He mocked.

Clove responded with, "Don't attempt to flatter me!" Before bursting into a fit of giggles Cato mimicking her actions. 

"You two are childish." Marvel scoffed rolling his eyes. 

"Well at least we're not in love with a girl they are going to have to kill." Cato pointed out causing Marvel to flush.

"I'm not in love with her dumbas-

"District 1!" A voice called and Marvel rolled his eyes before ascending the stairs to the stage.

You debated meeting Marvel for a long time. On one hand you were pissd at him, on the other you really, really wanted to see him, run your hands through his soft hair and kiss his boyish pink lips.

 Finally after two hours of pacing and debating you slipped into the elevator, heart racing. You pressed the button next to the number two and listen to the soft hum as it dropped you three levels. 

The doors opened with a soft ding and you were met with a relieved pair of hazel eyes. 

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come." Marvel said softly, reaching for you hand and pulling you through the penthouse his district was staying in. 

He lead you to a bedroom shutting the door softly before turning to face you. 

"Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was kind yet melancholy when he spoke. 

You sighed walking over to the window where you could see the people of the capital partying below. 

"I barely touched that guy I don't understand." 

"It's not about how much you hurt the guy." You huffed in annoyance. 

"Well then what is it?" Marvel asked joining you beside the window. 

"It's the fact that you stepped in, you made me look weak." You explained looking down at your hands. 

Marvel stood silently, unsure of what to do, he was slowly realizing how him stepping in to save her could appear on her end, especially in front of the gamemakers. 

"I-im really sorry, y/n I didn't mean to." The boy stuttered, "I just got so mad when I saw him touch you. I wanted to help you." 

You glared up at him, "I was fine by myself. I was handling it." 

"I know, you were, it was stupid of me to step in I just…" he exhaled loudly not exscatly sure what happened himself. "I got so angry I couldn't stop myself."

"You should try to keep your emotions in check." You scoffed. 

"You think I haven't tried?" Marvel seethed.

"Try harder." You hissed back.

"You make it very difficult!" He defend quietly, not wanting to wake the other people in the apartment.

You sighed looking down again. 

"If it's any consolation, you got a higher score than me." Marvel mumbled. 

"That did feel good." You smiled, your happiness was cut short when you were reminded of your impending doom by a particularly loud cheer from the crowd below you. 

You reached slowly for Marvel's hand brushing your knuckles against his. He quickly grabbed your hand, wrapping it in his own. 

"I don't want to have to kill you tomorrow." You mumbled a tear leaking from your y/e/c eye. 

"I know," Marvel sighed sadly lifting your chin with one of his fingers to meet his gaze. "I don't either." 

"I'm sorry." You whispered you voice breaking. 

"For what?" Marvel asked confusion momentary taking over his features. 

"For this." You murmured before placing your lips on his. 

You kissed him softly, feeling his lips dance slowly against your own, he tasted minty and sharp, reminding you of the peppermint candies you used to steal from your kitchen. When you felt his tongue grazed your lips you pulled away. 

"If I do this I don't think I'll be able to kill you." You whispered dropping his hands. 

"We only have tonight." Marvel mumbled tracing your jawline softly, "I don't want to waste it." 

Against your better judgement you slammed your lips back onto his. This kiss was much more aggressive. It was desperate and lustful, so drastic from the first kiss you shared. 

Marvel pushed you roughly against the wall sliding his tongue into your mouth without hesitation, his hands holding your waist firmly. Your own hands found the back of his neck, one of the two sliding up to his smooth hair.  

His lips moved from your own down your jaw to your neck leaving marks that were sure to be bruised tomorrow. You moaned quietly when his lips danced just above your collarbone. 

Marvel lifted you up and walked you over to the bed his lips meeting yours quickly because the truth was you did only have one night. 

The next morning you woke to a shriek followed by muffled giggles.

You darted upward to see Glimmer standing in the door entrance hand clasped over her mouth, eyes wide.

"Oh my god!" She yelled making you flush red when you realized you had no clothes on and was in an equally naked boys arms. 

Marvel quickly jerked awake flashing red before yelling "Glimmer get out!" And throwing a pillow at the girl before turning to you. 

"Sorry, she has no concept of personal space." He mumbled, face a light pink. 

"I better get out of here." You sighed sadly, wanting to stay in bed with him forever.

"Yeah. You probably should." Marvel agreed his voice equally glum. 

You stood up the cold air hitting you in a wave before you gathered your clothes and got dressed. 

The whole time you could feel his eyes following you. You turned and looked at the boy, a small forced smile taking your lips. 

"See you around One." You mumbled before turning and walking out through the door. 

[foreversillythings]

roses are red, roses are white chapter nine

roses are red, roses are white part two the thorns of lancaster chapter four of kings and queens

Though not quite as opulent as their victory celebration, the Lancastrians in France still manage a festive banquet to ring in the new year of 1471. Lively music plays, desserts and sugary confections lie heaped on tables and Queen Enobaria holds court at the far end of the room, everyone of importance crowded around her gilded throne.

Madge is not among them.

She is off to the side of the room by the tall windows, the cold air leaking through the glass and chilling her skin. She watches her mother-in-law and squeezes the gift she’d bought Cato for New Year’s, though she doubts she’ll be able to give it to him. Ever since the details of her wedding night had been made public (owing, of course, to Cato and Clove making sure to spread the story far and wide), Madge had lost whatever prestige she’d managed to gain. Every eye that touches her now has a mocking glow and snickers haunt her every step, Cato and Clove’s victory seemingly complete. Even Enobaria has pulled away, for if Madge cannot get her own husband to bed her, she is obviously not worth the Queen’s time.

Madge is of decidedly mixed feelings. She knows she must consummate her marriage and she is more than ready for her humiliation to end (not to mention Cato and Clove’s smugness), but on the other hand, she is not exactly burning with the urge to go to bed with Cato. Not to mention she still has no idea how exactly she is supposed to get him into bed in the first place. Attempting to seduce him is out of the question, for even if he could be won by her charms (which she doubts), he is never without Clove, who is determined to guard him against every one of Madge’s advances. It is beyond frustrating, but in the weeks of her marriage she has not been alone with Cato once. He avoids her like the plague and when she manages to find him, Clove is there, claws out and ready for war. Madge could wait until they reach England and hope that Coriolanus can be swayed into ordering Cato to bed her, but the risks of such a strategy leave her cold. Cato will be searching for a way to secure an annulment; the more time she gives him the more likely he is to succeed. And she has no guarantee that she’ll be able to win over Coriolanus either. No, if she wants to keep this marriage afloat, she must do something soon. But what?

She stares at the glittery knot of nobles around Enobaria and finds Cato and Clove easily, her husband red faced and pawing at Clove as she giggles. Madge has to remind herself to keep her face neutral, for it will only make things worse if she lets her displeasure show. Her nails sink into Cato’s gift as she smoothes out her face, not a hint of her anger or frustration showing. She is a laughing stock because of them, the abandoned wife whose husband lavishes affection so very publicly on his mistress. What a joke. Many men have mistresses but most can at least offer their wife some modicum of respect. Cato will not even do that.

“Any ideas?” Annie asks as she joins Madge by the window. Madge inhales sharply and then blows it out slowly, her eyes never leaving her errant husband.

“No. Whatever I try, Clove is always there to make sure I never have the chance to make any progress.”

Annie frowns in sympathy and offers up her plate of sweets. Madge feels her heart warm a little to see her favourite sugary strawberries piled beside Annie’s honeyed pears. She pops one in her mouth and wishes this problem wasn’t so vexing. There must be something she’s not thinking of, but what?

“It’s terrible,” Annie says in a low voice so as not to be overheard. “Cato is behaving appallingly. Finnick always said some men weren’t meant to be husbands and he was right that Cato is one of them.”

Madge nods and feels Annie’s outrage on her behalf like a balm against the worst stings of Cato’s disrespect. At least she does not have to face this challenge alone.

“Still, Clove is my main obstacle now,” Madge says and feels sudden realization hit her like a hammer as the words slip off her tongue. Clove is her main obstacle. She’ll never get at Cato with Clove blocking the way and even trying is a waste of precious time. If she wants Cato, she’ll have to conquer Clove first.

“What? What is it?” Annie asks at Madge’s wide eyes and open mouth.

“I’ve been going at this all wrong,” she breathes and oh, how hadn’t she seen it? “I’ve been focusing on winning Cato, but I never will.  Not as long as he’s so determined to prove to Clove he’ll never betray her and not with Clove sabotaging my every chance. But if I can get Clove on my side, I won’t have to worry about her anymore and Cato will do whatever she asks. She’s the ally I need.”

It is so obvious and Madge feels hope crash down on her like a wave. If she has Clove, she will have Cato. They come as a pair, how had she not realized it sooner?

“But how on earth are you going to win over Clove?” Annie asks and for a moment Madge’s hope shrivels. Clove hates me and she doesn’t want anyone touching Cato. How can I get her to help me? She wants Cato more than anything, just as he wants her. Madge gasps. That’s it, that’s it!

"What?" Annie asks as Madge starts to smile.

“I’m going to make her a deal she can’t say no to. I’m going to give them both exactly what they want," she explains and Annie furrows her brow.

It is to be a deal with the devil, but then, I've made plenty of those already.

*

(When Margaret, Duchess of Clarence, Countess of Warwick and Dowager Duchess of Bedford had been a little girl, she used to sit at her window and stare up at the stars. Every night she’d watch them twinkle and feel like every one of her dreams might come true, her heart beating with hope. She’d make a wish on those winking stars, the same one every night.

Let me live a quiet life far from my uncle’s shadow

Now, widowed, exiled and suffocating in her own blood, her one wish has changed.

Let me see Madge happy and secure in England)

(deep down, she fears this wish will not be granted either)

*

For the last few weeks Madge’s days have followed a set pattern. Only her mother and Annie will speak to her, so most of her time is spent in their company, but for at least several hours every day, when she is certain Clove will be stuck attending Enobaria, Madge searches for Cato.

She never finds him.

Sometimes he is out hunting or riding, but other times he is simply hidden away so well she can never find him, no matter how long she searches. It is beyond frustrating, but with no other ideas as to how to safeguard her marriage, she had persisted. Today, finally, she breaks the pattern. She does not bother to look for Cato and instead waits for Clove to finish with Enobaria, studiously ignoring the laughing looks sent in her direction as she makes her way to the queen’s chambers. If she succeeds today all those looks will stop, the disrespect will finally be at an end. There won’t be an insolent edge to every voice that says her title, their tongues curling with giggles over ‘Princess of Wales’ and ‘your Highness’. She will be secure and she will be able to protect herself and those she loves. Finally, finally, she is going to win.

She has to.

Madge tucks herself into the doorway of a room just next to Enobaria’s chambers and waits. Sunlight stretches across the stone floor and makes dust motes sparkle as Madge runs over everything she plans to say, for she cannot afford a mistake today. She’s not sure how long she’s been waiting when Clove finally slips out of Enobaria’s room, her face stormy and her eyes dark. She shuts the door behind her and some of the tension fades from her posture, her expression softening just the slightest bit. She turns and begins to walk down the hall, passing Madge in her hiding place.

“Mistress Clove, might I have a word?” Madge asks and Clove stiffens again. She turns and the look she rests on Madge is black and murderous.

“No, you might not,” she grinds out and turns to leave, only for Madge to snag her sleeve between her fingers.

“You’ll want to hear this, trust me. And anyways I’m Princess of Wales now; you have no right to refuse me.”

Clove swivels her head around to glare at Madge, her eyes molten with fury. Madge doesn’t flinch.

“It won’t take long, I promise,” she says and then steps through the door into the empty room beside Enobaria’s. She pulls Clove gently after her and she comes, the rage on her face promising as much suffering as she can inflict.

“What do you want?” she demands and shakes away Madge’s grip. Madge steps behind her to close the door before she answers and takes a steadying breath.

“I want to talk about Cato,” she says and Clove whirls around, her eyes flashing.

“You’ll never have him! He’s mine and you’re not going to have him! Your marriage is doomed; I won’t let you have him!” she shouts, her whole body quivering.

“And then what?” Madge asks and Clove blinks at her, her explosive fury momentarily checked.

“What?”

“When you’ve had my marriage dissolved, then what?”

Clove blinks again and opens her mouth, but no words come out. Madge seizes her chance.

“You won’t be able to marry him Clove, you must know that. If you get rid of me, Cato’s parents will immediately arrange for him to marry someone else. Someone very rich and with foreign connections. They need money and allies, preferably royal allies. You can’t give them either of those things. Maybe it will be a French princess to thank King Louis for his help, maybe Princess Margaret of Scotland again to safeguard the border or maybe an Italian or a German or a Castilian, but it won’t be you. It’ll never be you.”

Clove balls her fists and bares her teeth, but Madge plows ahead. “And you know what’s worse? Not only will you never be his wife, but you’ll be lucky if they even let you stay his mistress. Foreign royalty will never tolerate the treatment you’ve meted out to me. Coriolanus will force Cato to consummate his marriage and if you try to sabotage her as you’ve done me, well, you’ll be fortunate if all the King does is banish you from court, never to be seen again. They will need this new marriage to work out, to solidify their precarious position in England and they will not stand for you causing any trouble. You might beat me, but you’ll lose Cato forever. I know you’re smart enough to realize that.”

“Cato will never abandon me,” Clove says fiercely but there is a tremble in her voice, one Madge knows she must exploit.

“He won’t have a choice. Which is why I want to offer you a deal.”

Clove recoils and barks out a laugh, her teeth flashing in the light from the window. “A deal? What the hell can you offer me?”

Madge doesn’t smile, at least not outwardly, but oh Clove, I can offer you everything you want. Just you wait and see.

*

(Glimmer has always, always loved gossip.

Nothing has the power to titillate quite like a good scandal and quite delightfully, it is a passion Marvel shares. Their letters across the Channel are filled with every exciting tidbit they can find, scurrilous rumours passed back and forth between them. It is exhilarating. With little to do and with that wicked witch Enobaria not inviting her to be a part of her household, Glimmer spends most of her days wandering the palace in search of a new juicy morsel to write about to Marvel. Today she wanders past Enobaria’s chambers, hoping to catch the queen doing something awful. Her steps are slow, quiet and she is attuned to every noise and sound. If there is a story to be heard, she will hear it.  

And hear it she does.

“A deal? What the hell can you offer me?”

It is Clove, her voice hissed but loud anyway, and Glimmer stops in her tracks, her ears instantly pricked. The sound is coming from a door a few feet from Enobaria’s and Glimmer creeps closer. She looks carefully down the hall and happily there is no one here, which allows Glimmer to press against the door for maximum eavesdropping.

“All I want is my position secured. I need the power to keep the people I love safe, I don’t care about anything else. I don’t care if Cato never loves me or if he keeps you as his mistress for the rest of our lives. If you convince Cato to come to my bed often enough for me to conceive an heir, I’ll make sure you get Cato. He can sleep in your bed every night; he can let you in on all his secrets and shower you in riches. I’ll even request that you be one of my ladies to make sure they can’t send you away. I won’t try to seduce him or try to win his love, I don’t want it. As long as you make sure Cato helps me protect my loved ones, you can have everything else,” comes Madge’s muffled voice from the other side of the door and Glimmer has to cover her mouth to stifle a gasp. Her eyes widen and this is the juiciest thing she’s heard in ages. Glimmer smiles widely and pushes herself even harder against the door, eager and desperate to hear what comes next. Marvel is going to love this.

“And consider this Clove; I won’t go down without a fight. King Coriolanus is the one who’ll ultimately decide whether or not to dissolve my marriage, not you or Cato. When we get to England, I’m going to do everything I can to convince Coriolanus to side with me and order Cato to come to my bed.  And if you think I have no chance at success, think about this. I won Katniss of York’s confidence, I befriended her sister, I managed to have Haymitch Abernathy recommend me for a position in the Queen’s household and I made Gale Hawthorne fall in love with me, even though there is no one who hates the Lancastrians more than him. I needed protection and I got it, even though the Yorkists were my enemies and hated me and everything I stood for. Coriolanus is my blood, if I could win the Yorkists, there is a very good chance I’ll be able to win him. And even if you do win, remember, you’ll lose Cato. So I’ll let you decide what’s most important. Beating me? Or being with Cato?”

Glimmer claps both hands to her mouth and actually bounces with joy, a squeal fighting its way up her throat. This is amazing! She scampers away down the hall before Madge or Clove comes out and sees her, her steps light and her heart soaring. This is not just a magnificent scrap of gossip, this is a mountain, and she cannot wait to let Marvel in on this delicious secret. Even better, they can use this.

Oh Madge, you’re going to be so, so sorry you crossed us)

*

Madge slips out into the hall once she's said her piece and heads back to her mother's chambers. Her heart is beating in her throat as she moves through the halls, weak January sun painting everything in shades of yellow. She is already anxious to hear Clove's answer but she knows she cannot stay and push. Clove needs to be left alone to decide what to do, if Madge lingers she is likely to refuse just on principal. Madge has done all she can, now, terrifyingly, her fate is in Clove's hands.

"Oh sister dearest, how good to see you," comes Glimmer's too-sweet voice from just behind her and Madge turns, hoping her nerves aren't visible on her face. She smiles and Glimmer returns it, though hers is wider by far.

"Indeed, it has been too long since we last spoke," Madge manages and though she knows her voice lacks sincerity, Glimmer merely beams and loops her arm through Madge's.

"So true. So much has happened, we have much to discuss." She tugs until Madge is walking beside her and there is a light in her eyes Madge cannot help but distrust. "I've been thinking of your marriage and I must say, I definitely think you've stepped up from Gale Hawthorne."

Madge doesn't let loose the exasperated sigh fluttering in her throat and instead tries to keep her tone polite and demure. "I am blessed to be married to Prince Cato."

Glimmer rolls her eyes. "Of course you are, you went from some upstart earl to the heir to the throne. But I know you; this was your idea wasn't it? You've always been clever."

Madge cannot help but narrow her eyes suspiciously. What game is Glimmer playing?

"Thank you for saying so, but I fear you overestimate me," she says and Glimmer lets out a knowing laugh.

"Oh yes, very clever. I can see why Haymitch would be willing to throw Marvel and I aside to support you. He is rather cunning himself; I suppose he admires your skills more than my dear Marvel's."

Madge feels sudden alarm but before she can defend herself, Glimmer is already speaking again with a friendly smile.

"Oh don't worry, I'm not angry. We all play the game, but we cannot all win. I suppose that's why you went after Gale, wasn't it? With the Yorkists in power, you couldn't have hoped to find a better husband. Unless you truly loved him? Did you?"

Glimmer offers the perfect appearance of genuine concern but Madge is not fooled. Glimmer is up to something, but what? What answer is she hoping for? Does she want Madge to admit to loving Gale so she can try and use it to discredit her with the Lancastrians, especially Cato? Is she hoping to challenge Madge's loyalty? Or maybe she wants Madge to admit to manipulating the whole scenario, but what good will that do? Cato already knows, Madge told him herself. Enobaria doesn't know, but it would probably only make her like Madge more if she did find out. No, it must be about Gale.

"I love Prince Cato with all my heart, I could not wish for a better husband," she says and Glimmer beams.

"Oh wonderful, that makes me so happy. It would be dreadful if you were still pining after Gale."

Madge smiles tightly. "I appreciate your concern, but I am a Lancastrian, I always have been. The Earl of Salisbury could never have won my loyalty or affection."

"Of course, how very silly of me. My loyalties have always been to power, it’s easy to forget that there are others with far more scruples," Glimmer says with a laugh. "Yes, I think you shall make a lovely queen of England, so moral and upright. Well, I'll leave you here, it's been wonderful catching up."

Glimmer kisses her firmly on both cheeks and then leaves, Madge staring after her with uncertainty. She is up to something, but what? What was she trying to gain from this conversation?

I have far too many cares already; I do not need to worry about Glimmer too

(and what she can't know about, is the smirk of triumph on Glimmer's face as she walks away)

*

(Clove is waiting for Cato is his room.

He is feeling buoyant after an exhilarating ride this afternoon, his hair still damp from the snow even as his blood pumps warmth through his body. The cold January air had breathed life into every part of him and when he steps into his room to find Clove sitting on his bed, his heightened emotions turn amorous in nature.

"Hello gorgeous," he says with a grin but feels it drop away immediately. Clove looks up at him with dark eyes and a bleak expression, sudden ice settling beneath his skin.

"What's wrong?" he demands and sits beside her. He takes her hand and it is cold to the touch.

"I spoke to Madge today," she says in the smallest, saddest voice he's ever heard Clove use. He feels suddenly hot with rage.

"I'll kill her," he growls and Clove grips his hand so tight it hurts. She looks at him and somehow, her face grows even bleaker.

"You can't.")

*

Sitting in bed that night, Madge cannot help feeling slightly terrified. She has done all she can to convince Clove and now she has to wait and see if her argument has borne fruit. If it hasn’t she will have to put all her hopes on Coriolanus and if it has, if it has Cato will come to her bed.

She’s not sure which possibility frightens her more.

There is a little girl urge in her to go to her mother’s room and burrow into her arms as she always used to when she needed comfort, but her mother cannot help her now. Madge needs to consummate this marriage with Cato, the sooner the better. She breathes steadily, tries to remember the excited flutters Gale’s kisses and touches and proximity had lit within her and ignores how cold she feels even under her many layers of blankets. Cato will come, he has to come.

Oh how I hate waiting

Wispy clouds wreathe the stars in the sky when her door opens and Madge feels her heart stop and her breath freeze in her lungs. Cato stands draped in shadows in the doorway, the faint flickering of candlelight just touching his thunderous expression. Madge tries to remember how to breathe and he slams the door, loud enough that the entire castle must hear. She jumps but knows this is a good thing; she needs everyone to know what’s happening here. Cato stalks towards her and Madge presses her hands to her chest, trapping Gale’s locket between her palm and her pounding heart.

“Good evening, my lord,” she says softly and Cato stops walking, his hate filled eyes burning her skin.

“Don’t speak to me,” he hisses, “don’t make a sound. I don’t want to be here and if I have to be, then I want to forget I’m here with you. Don’t talk, don’t move, don’t do anything to remind me you’re here. Understood?” He grinds out each word in a tight voice and Madge nods. Cato comes towards her again and she closes her eyes, nausea suddenly flooding through her.

“Lie down,” he orders and she does. Cato sits on the edge of the bed and yanks off her covers, her eyes opening at the sudden sting of cold air. She bites her lips to button them against a gasp and cannot help looking at Cato. He grabs the hem of her nightgown and pushes it up around her waist, leaving her lower half entirely exposed. Madge can feel herself flush with embarrassment while goosebumps bloom across her skin. Blood roars in her ears, fear tingles in her every nerve and Cato peers down at her with disdain, his mouth curled into a sneer.

“Disgusting,” he says and Madge knows that he is just being cruel, that there is probably nothing wrong with the way she looks but still, she cannot help the prickle of tears in her eyes. Cato turns away from her and reaches into his lap, but from her angle lying rigid on her back, Madge cannot see what he’s doing. She tries not to think as she watches him, tries to drive everything from her mind as his hand moves between his legs but she cannot relax. She knows vaguely what comes next but when he finally stops what he’s doing and climbs on top of her, she isn’t ready. He grabs her thighs and spreads her legs and Madge reminds herself that this what she wanted. She is the one who put every effort into getting him to come here tonight, she is the reason this is happening.

It doesn’t help.

All of a sudden he is inside her, the pain sharp and awful. Tears blur her vision of the ceiling above her and she bites her tongue to hold in her gasp, so hard she can taste the blood in her mouth. Cato does not pause, clearly wants this to happen as quickly as it can and she squeezes her eyes closed, her nails digging into the mattress. Tears slide down her cheeks but she can’t move to wipe them away and it feels like a lifetime of him thrusting into her and pulling back, over and over again. She closes her eyes, cannot look at his face and please God, let this be over quickly.

Finally, he grunts and stops, a warm something spilling between them. He is off of her in an instant and Madge does not watch him leave, her body aching along with her heart.

This is what I wanted.

I won

There is blood on her sheets, something sticky between her thighs but Madge knows she cannot clean it up. She needs the maids to see this proof of her union with Cato tomorrow, needs the whole court to know what’s happened. Just telling them isn’t enough, she needs evidence.

I won. Everything’s going to be okay now

Madge rolls over, presses her face into her pillow and cries herself to sleep.

*

(The room is dark when Cato comes to her.

Clove sits on the bed, her eyes closed and her hands knotted in her lap. There is no moonlight tonight and she’d blown out the candles as soon as he’d left, she hadn’t wanted any idea how much time was passing.

Cato doesn’t say a word as he steps inside and shuts the door and neither does Clove. She opens her arms to him and he folds into them, his face pressed against her neck. The only sound in the gloom is his ragged breathing and Clove wraps him up, her fingers digging deep into his back as she holds him. They do not speak, cannot perhaps, and that’s it then.

It’s done)

*

Perhaps it was the gossipy maids that changed her bloody sheets, perhaps it was Cato or even Clove, but news of the royal consummation soon reaches every corner of Enobaria’s court. The effect is immediate.

Madge is soaking in the bath and trying valiantly to scrub away the feel of Cato when the note comes, a short message in Enobaria’s cramped hand.

Come to my solar, I’ve missed you

Madge closes her eyes and struggles to hold in a bitter laugh. What a fickle ally you are Enobaria. Still, Madge cannot refuse her. She may be faithless but she is still Queen of England and still Madge’s mother-in-law. She is an ally Madge needs; no matter how much she wishes she didn’t.

The water is cold as Madge grabs the edge of the tub and pushes herself up, her hours of washing never quite managing to purge Cato from her pores. He lingers still and Madge tries not to remember him as her maids dress her, but she cannot forget. The feel of him inside her, the sound of his breathing, the smell of him as he’d moved above her, it is buried far too deep inside of her to remove.

I wonder if I’m haunting him as he is me

*

(yes, the answer is yes)

*

There are no scornful snickers as Madge passes through the halls, no snide remarks or rude looks, just curtsies, bows and respectful murmurs of her title. If ever she wanted proof of her success, here it is. Yesterday she was a laughingstock but today she stands tall among them. Maybe, one day, she’ll be able to take comfort in that.

“Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales,” a herald announces and Madge sweeps into Enobaria’s chambers. The other ladies stand and curtsy, Enobaria welcoming her with a wide smile.

“It’s been too long,” she says and Madge forces a smile to go along with her curtsy.

“That it has, your Majesty,” she says with as much warmth as she can drag up. Enobaria’s eyes glow with pleasure and she pats the stool beside her.

“Here, sit with me,” she says and Madge goes, taking her new position of honour with a bittersweet tang on her tongue. She’s done it, won the war and claimed her prize. She is Princess of Wales, future Queen of England and she cannot think about what she’s lost. The price is worth it. Gale, Annie, her mother, the Hawthornes, Katniss, they’re worth it.

Enobaria curls a hand around Madge’s shoulder and leans in very close. “Congratulations on defeating Cato’s harlot, you’ve done well. I’m quite impressed.”

Madge closes her eyes.

Remember Gale, Annie, Mother, Katniss, Prim, the Hawthornes

This is for them

It’s worth it for them

*

(“Mother?”

Margaret looks up from the book she’s been reading and sees Madge standing in her doorway. Her daughter is pale and though she does not say a word, Margaret can read the desperate plea for comfort in her eyes. Her heart gives a terrible throb in her chest and she opens her arms.

“Come here, darling,” she says and Madge comes, collapsing into Margaret’s chest with a shuddering breath. Madge does not explain but Margaret does not need her to. She wraps her daughter up in her arms and runs a hand down her back as Madge trembles against her, her own heart shaking into pieces.

“I love you sweetheart. I will always love you, my brave, wonderful Madge.”)

*

“Might I join you?” Annie asks and Madge looks up from her untouched embroidery frame. Annie stands in the doorway to Madge’s bedchamber with her own needlework, a soft, sympathetic smile on her face. Madge nods.

“I can’t imagine being the center of attention over something like this,” Annie says quietly as she sits on the stool facing Madge’s. Madge shrugs.

“I suppose that’s the peril of being a princess,” she says with an awkward attempt to be jovial. Annie reaches over and places a hand on her knee.

“I know what this means dynastically and for your position, but how are you?”

Madge looks out the window at the faintly falling snow and tries to keep her voice steady. “I’m fine. I mean it hurt and it was uncomfortable, but that’s normal. I won’t say it was the height of romance, but I never thought it would be. I may never enjoy it, but I don’t need to.”

Annie does not say anything and Madge hates her hazy reflection in the window, the terrible sadness of her face in the glass. It is rare that a highborn lady marries for love; Madge is only doing what so many before her have. There is no need to be miserable; this is just what life is like for people like them.

(and maybe if she tells herself this enough, it will make it okay)

“I for one am glad you will be our next queen. I can’t think of anyone better.”

Madge turns to look at Annie and the gentle understanding in her eyes soothes some of the raggedness within her. She cannot dwell on last night, at least not on the chasm it opened inside her and she can see on Annie’s face that she understands why. Annie squeezes her knee and then settles back on her stool. She pulls up her embroidery frame and Madge knows that should she ever need to talk, Annie will listen.

For the first time today she smiles for real.

*

(Gale yawns as he makes his way to bed, the long hallway dark and empty. He drags his feet, exhausted from another frustrating day of planning and plotting. This exile has been one of endless repetition, each and every day spent planning for a hopeful return to England while Peeta works to gain them the aid they’ll need from Burgundy. It is always the same, nothing ever changes and no progress is ever made. Gale rubs at a knot just below his shoulder and tries not to sigh. He has faith, he has to, that they’ll regain England, that he’ll see his family again and be reunited with Madge, but that does not make this blasted banishment any easier.

He passes Rory’s room and pauses in front of the open door. He can see his brother sitting by the window, his head angled to stare out at the white flurries swirling beyond the glass. The hall’s torchlight stretches a thin yellow line into the otherwise unlighted room and Gale closes his eyes. Every day of this cursed exile Rory seems to grow more and more melancholy and Gale doesn’t know how to make things better. When he was younger it had seemed so easy being his siblings’ knight in shining armor, protecting them from scraped knees and monsters under their bed, but the older they all get, the more Gale realizes he might not be enough to keep them safe.

He has never felt so useless.

Still, he can’t leave after seeing Rory like this. Useless he may be, but he’ll never stop trying. He takes a step forward and knocks softly on the open door.

“Can I come in?” he asks and Rory nods. Gale walks into the chilly room and makes a note to order warming pans brought up. He sits down beside his brother and joins him in gazing out at the January night.  

“What are you doing sitting here in the dark?” he asks and Rory sighs quietly.

“Thinking,” he says and Gale frowns.

“Thinking about what?”

Rory blows out a breath and shrugs. “Just…winter. Winter back home before…before Dad…”

Before Dad died Gale finishes silently and feels the familiar mix of pain and anger start to flood his veins. He nods stiffly and puts an arm around Rory’s shoulders. There is a pause where they both watch the snow dance through the sky and then Rory starts to speak, his voice soft and sad.

“We’d sit by the fire and eat warm pie while Mum told all those stories about snow pixies and winter fairies,” he says and Gale remembers so sharply he feels it like a knife to the gut.  “Dad would build us sliding hills outside and we’d have snow forts and wars, always me and Vick versus you and Posy.”

Rory tries to smile, to laugh but can’t and Gale feels almost sick with helplessness. He needs to say something, can’t bear the tragic look of his fourteen year old brother’s misery and forces cheer into his voice.

“And we always won,” he says, bumping Rory with his shoulder and Rory manages a phantom smile with a roll of his eyes.

“Only because you cheated. You and Posy were the worst.”

Gale laughs a little more genuinely and gives his brother a shove. “I never cheat!” he says in mock outrage.

“Hah! You always cheat,” Rory says with a snort and Gale feels his chest warm at his brother’s smile.

It doesn’t last.

“We’ll never do that again, will we? Even if we do go home, we’ll never have those winters again. I know it’s been years since Dad, but still, being here, it really hit me.” Rory’s voice is resigned and Gale feels a sharp pain in stomach. He puts his arm back around his brother and pulls Rory close.

“We will,” he says firmly and Rory looks up at him in confusion.

“What?”

“Next winter, we’ll be home again and we’ll sit by the fire and eat pie and listen to all of Mum’s stories. I’ll build the sliding hills and we’ll still have our wars, though we’ll have to let Philippa and Petronella join in, they are Hawthornes now after all.”

Gale wants to sound confident but is fairly certain he sounds slightly pleading. Rory looks down for a moment and Gale feels as if he is standing on a very thin ledge over an impossibly deep gorge. But then Rory grins.

“Alright, but we get Philippa.”

Gale’s eyebrows shoot up and he cannot contain his smirk. “You want her on your team? Well, well-”

“Shut up,” Rory says with a grimace. “It’s only because Nella’s too nice to be much use in a fight. If I’m going to war, Philippa’s definitely the better choice.”

Gale considers this and nods in agreement. “Yeah, alright, point.”

“Since I’m such a good sport, I’ll take Henry,” Rory says and Gale frowns.

“But then the teams won’t be even,” he says and Rory bites his lip. He looks up at Gale with the shyest hint of a smile.

“No, I mean, Madge’ll be part of the family by then, right?” he says and Gale blinks in surprise before smiling softly. He gives Rory a squeeze.

“Right.”

(sometimes faith is hard to keep alive)

(but it is easier when he has someone to believe with)

“And she’ll be way more useful then Henry, he’s way too easily distracted. Even though you’re a notorious cheater, I am committed to fair play. Since I get Philippa, you can have Madge,” Rory continues primly, his eyes bright with teasing. Gale gasps in offense but cannot keep down his grin.

“Oh, I see. That’s how it is, is it?” he says and drags Rory over so he can mess up his hair. Rory laughs and tries to swat him away.

“That is how it is! If Vick were here he’d say the same thing, you and Posy always cheat!” he says and wiggles out of Gale’s grip. He bounces over to the bed and Gale knows exactly what's coming. Rory snatches up a pillow and Gale leaps to his feet. 

“Scoundrel!” he declares and Rory grins wickedly as he hurls his pillow at Gale’s head. Gale catches it and Rory grabs his other pillow, the two of them circling like duelists.

“I’m not afraid of you, cheater!” Rory shouts as he puffs out his chest and Gale launches in, pillow swinging wildly. He gets Rory in the face at the same time Rory whacks him in the stomach, the air whooshing out of him. Rory cackles and dances away, even as his hair sticks out wildly in every direction. Gale charges after him with a loud laugh and maybe it’s alright that he can’t save his siblings from everything.

After all, they’re getting pretty good at saving him)

*

Once a week, Cato comes to Madge’s room.

She does not move, does not make a sound and Cato still cannot look at her with anything other than loathing, but they do what they have to. Revulsion thickens in her veins and though the pain is not nearly as awful as at the start, it never goes away, her body never ready and willing no matter how much she wishes it would be. She does not know how to force herself to be interested or excited and so she bites her lip and grits her teeth and forces down every flinch.

I am so close, all I need is a son and heir for England and I’ll never have to be afraid again

Cato hates climbing on top of Madge and thrusting inside her bone dry body, but he knows he has no choice. He must do this if he wants a future with Clove, no matter how much it makes his skin crawl. The illness in his stomach does not go away no matter how many times he beds her and he keeps his eyes closed, tries to forget who is lying beneath him but the experience is never anything but a duty he must force himself through.

I am so close, all I need is a son and heir for England and I’ll never have to suffer through this again

*

(Months have gone by, seasons have changed and still, England remains in Lancastrian hands. Philippa stays hidden in the countryside with her mother and fumes, angry to be locked away, angry that her father pretends to support Lancaster, angry that they must be ruled by people she has been raised to fear. She wishes she could go to court and tell wicked, old Coriolanus how despicable he is to his face, but her mother is so appalled by that idea she actually collapses.

Philippa appeals to her brother next, but John, usually her most steadfast champion, looks at her like she’s lost her mind.

“Are you mad? You cannot speak to a king that way and certainly not this one,” he says and she glares at him, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I’m not afraid of him,” she snaps back and John shakes his head.

“That’s because you’re still a little girl.”

“I am not! I’m fifteen, I’m married, I’m a marchioness! I’m not a child.”

John shakes his head again and puts his hands on her shoulders. He bends down to look her in the eyes and she hates the expression on his face.

“You are if you think courage alone will topple Coriolanus. You might be brave enough to give him a lashing with your tongue; God knows you’ve never shied away from giving one to anyone else, but that would be foolhardy and pointless. Standing up in the face of injustice is a noble thing, but not if it will do more harm than good. You think you are grown up? Then prove it by being wise and realizing that there is a place, time and way to send evil men to their graves. Recklessly giving them a tell off will achieve nothing but bringing misery down upon all of us.”

Philippa does not answer but she feels his chastisement bring embarrassed colour to her cheeks.

“I hate doing nothing but hiding out here with Mother. Katniss and Gale will be leading armies; even Rory will probably fight when York comes back. I will do nothing but sit here,” she complains and hates the edge of petulance in her voice. John pulls back with an affectionate laugh.

“Oh Philippa, what a warrior you’d make,” he says and ruffles her hair. She scowls and swats away his hand.

“I could be. Katniss is a woman and she has no equal on the field of battle. Why can’t I learn to fight as well?”

John’s eyes widen and for a moment he seems at a loss for words.

“Because,” he begins and Philippa feels her eyes narrow. “It is simply not done.”

“Katniss is doing it,” she retorts and he frowns.

“Katniss…Katniss is the exception to the rule.”

“Why? Why must she be an exception? Why can we not make a new rule?” she demands and John huffs in frustration. He takes her by the shoulders again and squeezes tight.

“Because it isn’t how things work and it won’t be, not ever. This is why Mother and Father think it best to keep you here, far away from court. You are ridiculous. You cannot tell a king his faults and you cannot fight in wars. Women cannot and will never be knights. Those are childish fantasies and you know it.”

Philippa has always loved John the best of all her many siblings but in this moment it feels as if he’s slapped her clear across the face. She backs away from him and tries very hard to keep the tears from her voice.

“Then I shan’t trouble you with them any longer,” she says and turns on her heel before he can see her cry.

“Philippa,” he says in exasperation but she cannot turn back. She hurries down the hall and feels so stupid it aches. She remembers how desperate Rory was to prove himself a man and feels hatred bubble in her gut. All he needs to do to be treated as an equal is to grow up, but I’ll never be their equal no matter how old I get.

I am a girl and they will always hold that against me.)

*

March arrives with slushy rain and muddy streets, spring so tantalizingly close Madge can almost taste it. Her eighteenth birthday looms and beyond that their departure for England and Madge feels her blood boil at the thought. Home is so close, the end of this nightmare almost at hand and now that the time is so near, she can barely stand the waiting. She can feel the yearning humming in her bones and she is jittery with anticipation, her nervous energy infuriating Cato so much he refuses to come to her bed until she learns to stop fidgeting. She should care about that, but she can’t, not now. Not when safety and home are so very, very close.

Of course, the promise of England is not all joy and sunshine. Coriolanus is waiting for them in England and this time, Madge will not be able to hide from him in the country like she did when she was young. She is his daughter-in-law now. Still, if she’s lucky Cato will be sent off to Wales to govern his own court for experience, as the heir to the throne so often is. She’ll go with him of course, which means she’ll only have to spend time with her in-laws on special occasions. Being alone with Cato and Clove won’t be a dream certainly, but she’ll have Annie and Finnick too and no Coriolanus. That will be good enough. Life is far too dark already, she is determined now to only look on the bright side.

(because of this new vow, she does not think of the Hawthornes and the betrayal she is sure to see in their eyes when they meet again)

(she cannot think of them, or Prim, or Katniss and especially not Gale)

(except, of course, that she cannot stop thinking about them either)

*

“Do you know what today is?” Annie asks softly on one of those impossibly long March days and Madge looks out the window at the iron gray Channel in the distance. For a moment the excitement inside her quiets and she remembers, even though she wishes she couldn’t.

“Yes,” she whispers and they do not need to say anything else. They both stand from their stools and move into each other’s arms, the almost-spring chill sinking beneath their skin.

Today marks the one year anniversary of their exile from England.

*

Madge cannot sleep that night, the shadows in her room so much deeper than they should be.

Has it really been a year since we left? A year since I last saw Gale?

She thinks of him as she’d last seen him in Rochester’s courtyard, his armor gleaming and his smile confident. Her eyes burn and she remembers that kiss goodbye, the last she’ll ever have. Her fingers curl around his locket and a promise of things to come he’d whispered to her ear, a promise neither of them can keep. Her grip is so tight it aches but she cannot let go, her heart splintering in her chest.

Almost three years since the Yorkists won and I lost you Father and a year since I lost Gale and home

What a wicked month March is

*

(There is dream Finnick often has, one where he is safe in Wales with Annie and a family of their own. He has always thought of this as the future, believed that one day, once the upheaval was finally settled, he would have that.

But with each new day that comes and goes, he is starting to wonder if maybe, maybe it is just a dream.

An impossible dream)

*

“I have an urgent message your Majesty,” a breathless messenger say as he tumbles into Enobaria’s solar and Madge looks up quickly from the book she’d been reading. The man is dripping wet from the awful weather outside, his clothes dark and heavy, his hair stuck to his face and a puddle widening around his feet. He is panting and his fingers fidget around the hat in his hands and Madge knows whatever news he brings cannot be good.

Enobaria carefully sets down the account book she’d been perusing and looks at the messenger with a neutral expression, her whole being calm and unperturbed. “And what message is that?” she asks coolly and whatever else she feels about Enobaria, Madge must admire her composure.

“Katniss of York has returned to England,” he says and a gasp ripples through the room. Enobaria’s ladies exchange whimpers and terrified looks while Madge presses her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. Oh Gale

“And?” Enobaria asks, her tone sharpening, and the messenger swallows.

“The Burgundians have lent her money, arms and soldiers. She had a difficult crossing, her fleet was scattered by bad weather but the Yorkists finally managed to put in at Ravenspurn. She has managed to evade all our forces and last I heard, she had reached the town of Warwick and gained a substantial enough force to re-declare herself Queen of England. She heads now for London, with the Duke of Clarence hot on her heels. He urgently requests that you and your remaining forces sail for England immediately, lest Katniss get too much of a foothold within the country. He is sure that if your forces join his the Yorkists will be crushed.”

Enobaria’s eyes darken, her jaw clenches and Madge feels so sick she is terrified she may puke. This is every one of her fears come to life, another war, another chance at defeat and of losing everything she has managed to gain. Safety is once again torn from her grasp and if the Yorkists win, she knows she will be ruined. She is Princess of Wales now, Cato of Lancaster’s wedded wife; she can’t expect forgiveness like last time. This isn’t fair, what are we going to do?

Enobaria stands suddenly. “Fetch my ministers, we have much to discuss,” she orders and the messenger bows hastily before fleeing. Enobaria storms after him and Madge stays where she is, her heart pounding in her ears.

This means war, a war like last time

Lancaster versus York in a battle that will split England in two

All my prayers that this was over were for naught

Oh Gale, what are we going to do?

*

(Once, Darius had fed important information to the Lancastrians to ensure their victory. This time, it is Prim that changes the tide of battle.

London is meant to be defended by Brutus, Duke of Somerset and indeed, no one but those trapped behind London’s walls knows he is absent. Prim doesn’t know where he is, but he isn’t here and that makes all the difference. Without him, London will not withstand a siege, and as Prim soon discovers, it does not want to.

As the wife of the Duke of Buckingham, a trusted member of the Lancastrian nobility, no one notices or cares that Prim wanders through London’s streets, quietly questioning its people to know which side they’re on. She talks to noblemen, governesses, butchers, ladies, merchants and more, cautiously sounding them out on the issue of England’s great civil war. She is charming and friendly, always casual in her questions and it does not take her long to realize that trapped here with Coriolanus and his vileness, the people of London are ready to see the Yorkists triumph.

She hurries home and scrawls a quick message to her sister, one telling her to make for the undefended London as fast as she can. Seizing the capital will not win them the war, but it will give the Yorkists a decided advantage, one they cannot afford to pass up. Prim watches her messenger ride out from her window and no one stops or questions him, the Stafford knot he wears guaranteeing safe passage.

And then she waits.

Prim does not speak of what she’s done, does not even hint of it to Darius, but he learns soon enough. Everyone learns soon enough.

She is sitting in her solar embroidering a cushion for her soon to be born baby when Darius comes rushing in, his hands running wildly through his hair. For a moment he merely paces back and forth, the dying sunlight through the windows setting his orange hair aflame. Prim watches him with anxious hope writhing in her chest, her nails digging painfully into her thighs. Finally, she can take it no longer.

“What’s wrong?” she asks and Darius stops his pacing and turns to her with panicked eyes.

“The Yorkists are almost here,” he says and Prim smiles widely, joy and triumph flooding through her. Oh Katniss, I cannot wait to see you again.

“Why are you smiling?” Darius demands and Prim levels him with a hard stare.

“Why wouldn’t I be smiling? My sister’s coming home and we’ll soon be rid of Coriolanus and his evil.”

“If the Yorkists win, I’ll be ruined,” he says and Prim feels her heart harden.

“And whose fault is that? You chose Lancaster, so now you’ll have to pay the price,” she says and his eyes widen, pain so stark in his eyes she can feel it all the way to her toes.

“They might execute me Prim,” he says, his voice rising fearfully, and underneath the pain and rage and betrayal, there is a broken heart in Prim’s chest.

“Then you shouldn’t have chosen Lancaster,” she says through the tears blurring her eyes and he staggers back and buries his head in his hands.

“I did it for you,” he sobs and she shakes her head, her eyes closing to block out the devastating sight of him.

“No, you didn’t. I never wanted this and if you knew me at all, you’d have known that. You betrayed York as you betrayed Lancaster before, you did it for you. If I wasn’t here you’d have done the same thing.”

“Is that it then, you want me dead?” he chokes out and she clutches her hands so tight her nails draw blood.

“No. No, no, I don’t. This is your fault, you did this,” she says miserably. “You’re making me choose, between you and Katniss, between you and what I believe is best for England. I can’t choose you Darius, I can’t.” She breaks off and weeps, her sorrow so thick she can barely breathe.  Darius crumples to the floor, hopelessness settling over their home like a heavy mantle and Prim hugs herself, the agony in her chest so terrible she can barely keep upright)

(love was never meant to hurt like this)

*

Enobaria and her councilors stay locked in conference for days, joined often by King Louis, and Madge sits with her mother and Annie, terror their constant companion. They rarely speak, for there are no words, but she holds Annie’s cold hand and her mother’s bony one, and prays for peace, for life, for a world where English blood will not be spilled by other Englishmen.  

Cato comes to her every night in these tense times and she knows why. They do not speak, just as always, but when she looks at his face, she can read so many things there he might as well say the words. He is terrified of losing his birthright, he is hungry to prove himself a man in battle and he is angry that she has not yet fallen with child. He is young, they both are, but the fate of a kingdom sits heavily on them both. A pregnancy would go a long way to bolstering the Lancastrian position, especially as Katniss remains childless. They need a baby, an heir to prove to England that the Lancastrians are the safer bet for a stable future and so Cato comes to her each and every night, desperate to plant his seed within her.

So desperate is this need that he consults the physician who gives them both a long list of medicine’s best and newest methods for conceiving a child.  There are specific things to eat and not to eat, specific times that are apparently better to perform the act, even things they should be thinking and doing during the act. If Madge clenches her hand, it will apparently up her chances of having a boy and if they both think violent, manly thoughts, that too will heighten their chances of conceiving a son. They do it all, do everything he recommends but Madge wonders deep down if it will be enough.

Cato has been bedding Clove for years and she has never had any children, what if that’s because of Cato? Clove could be barren certainly, but what if it isn’t her? What if Cato is the incapable one? Madge never breathes a word of this fear, for there is no point. Cato is the heir; if he cannot have children they are ruined. Instead she does everything the physician tells her to, does everything Cato tells her to and prays that Clove is the barren one and that soon a child will take root within her.

Give me a son; please please give us a son

*

(When Katniss and her army arrive before London, the city gates are thrown open, Coriolanus is thrown in the Tower and Prim stands on Westminster’s steps to welcome her sister home.

Darius does not stand with her)

*

They set sail on March 24th.

London has fallen and Enobaria finally decides they must go to England before all is lost. King Louis provides them with ships, men and money and Madge packs up her things with shaking hands. She cannot forget her last channel crossing and worse, this time they are sailing into a war.

The day of is gray with ugly clouds and Madge feels the salty sting of sea air on her face as she reaches the pier, a rush of awful memories flooding back. She shakes her head but cannot dislodge them and pulls out her rosary with fumbling fingers, prayers tumbling from her lips. She cannot even begin to imagine how Glimmer must feel.

“Come along, you’ll be on my ship,” Enobaria says and Madge looks up at her mother-in-law with a queasy feeling in her stomach.

“And my mother?” she asks in a small, scared voice that causes Enobaria to sneer.

“We will be joined only by my ladies. Any other woman of the court will have to board a different ship.”

Madge closes her eyes as the wind roars, because she knows what that means. She will be trapped with Enobaria, Cato and Clove, but she will not have her mother or Annie. She wants to cry but knows she can’t and instead she opens her eyes to look at the ship swaying before her. Enobaria is waiting for her and Madge knows she must be strong, knows too that England is waiting for her on the other side. She must be brave here, so she will.

“I am ready when you are, your Majesty,” she says and Enobaria smiles.

“Good, come along.”

Be brave my Madge

I will Father

*

(Glimmer has not stepped foot on a ship since the worst day of her life and she can feel ice prickling in her blood as she stares at the line of boats meant to carry them to England. There is a nightmare growing in her chest, memories with jagged teeth tearing at her fragile strength and for a moment, she feels as if she may collapse. She can smell blood on the wind, taste bile on her tongue and there is pain in her, a pain she could never hope to describe. Fear thrums in her bones and she cannot do this, she cannot ascend onto that ship, cannot plunge into darkness yet again. Bony fingers dig into her stomach and Glimmer closes her eyes but that only makes it worse, her gray, dead baby looking back at her from her lowered lids.

“Courage, my dear,” comes a faint voice and Glimmer peels open her eyes. Margaret watches her with concern on her pale face and reaches out one frail hand to squeeze Glimmer’s shoulder. “We shall weather this storm together.”

Glimmer feels hate like a hot knife in her gut, feels it like a lightning bolt through her very soul. Margaret had promised her in hushed tones that everything would be alright, but it hadn’t been. Margaret had lied and killed Glimmer’s baby and she and her foul husband and wretched daughter will pay dearly for it. Glimmer feels that thirst for vengeance swell within her and suddenly there is no room for fear or pain or sorrow. She is fury and revenge and wicked determination.

She will make it to England, for she will not miss the downfall of all those who’ve wronged her. She and Marvel are going to make them pay.

Glimmer smiles with poisoned lips at her mother-in-law and steels herself for the journey ahead. I am coming my love, soon we shall watch them burn together.

I cannot wait)

*

Madge kneels over the sick bucket, her fingers aching as they grip the wooden rim. She coughs and retches as she empties the last remaining contents of her stomach, her gut clenching with a terrible agony.

“If you don’t stop that soon I’ll have you thrown overboard,” Clove snaps but Madge barely listens as she slumps over onto the floor, her latest bout of illness sapping away the last of her strength. Her throat burns and she closes her eyes even as the ship shudders all over.

“You will do no such thing,” Enobaria says sternly and Madge clutches her stomach as it rolls with the ship. If the crossing to France had been a disaster, this one is turning out to be a catastrophe. The storms are so violent they’ve been pushed back to France over and over again, but Enobaria will not concede defeat. Each time they’re shoved back to France, she demands they try again and here they are, trying for the fourth time to make the trip across the Channel. Madge is honestly surprised she has anything left to vomit.

“And who knows,” Enobaria says, “maybe this sickness is not entirely due to the weather.”

Madge opens her eyes and looks at her mother-in-law, the only one among them who seems unaffected by the tossing, turning and the thunder that booms so loudly it sounds as if the very world is shattering to pieces. She sits straight backed and proud, not a hint of emotion on her face. There is the very faintest light in her eyes, a question Madge cannot answer, though she wishes in this moment that she could. Is she with child? That would be a blessing to Lancaster, but Madge remembers their trip to France and how ill she’d been then too.

Another wave slams into the hull and the whole room tilts, Madge’s bucket scraping along the floor until it collides with her chest. She winces and feels acid burn up her throat, her hand clamping over her mouth to try and hold it back. Clove curses as she nearly topples from her seat and a thin wail erupts from one of Enobaria’s cowering ladies, though Madge can barely hear it over the sounds of the storm above them. It feels as if they have been trapped in this tiny, foul smelling room for years and Madge tries to sit up, even as her head spins and her stomach heaves. She pushes herself up with shaking arms and has to grab her bucket to keep upright as the ship lurches again. Water sneaks under the door to their chamber and soaks into Madge’s skirt and the ladies whimper as the thunder crackles.

“We’ll never make it to England at this rate,” Clove snarls and Enobaria glances at her with disdain.

“We’ll make it,” she says firmly and the ship pitches again. Madge cannot stop herself this time and leans over her bucket, even though there is barely any room within to accept the last dregs of her stomach.

“I cannot listen to this anymore or smell it!” Clove snaps and Madge cannot remember ever feeling so awful. The nausea, the aches, the splitting pain in her skull, the burning in her throat, the exhaustion and misery in every inch of her, this must be what it feels like to die.

“Feel free to leave, you can always join the men up top,” Enobaria offers and Clove stands abruptly and kicks away her stool. Madge looks at her through bleary eyes and the ship rolls again, sending Clove careening back into the wall. Enobaria smirks and Madge’s bucket goes to, tipping over and spilling out across the floor. The ladies shriek, Clove swears and Madge cannot stop from weeping miserably.

If we survive this, I will never board a ship again

I would rather die

*

(Ever since he was sixteen years old, Darius has been willing to do whatever it takes to survive.

Today is no different.

He’d fled London upon Katniss’ approach and joined the closest Lancastrian force he could find. He hadn’t been thinking much about the future, only on the immediate need to get away from vengeful Yorkists that would surely want his head as payment for his betrayal. Now, as both sides rush towards battle, he knows it is time to make a decision. Who should he fight for? Lancaster or York?

“Darius, do you mind if I join you?”

Darius looks up from the fire he’d been brooding into and sees Marvel approaching him. He nods and scoots over on the log he’d been using as a bench. Marvel wrinkles his nose at the log but sits down, perching as lightly as he can. Darius can sympathize. Tramping around with the army has never been luxurious.

“You look troubled,” Marvel says with a curious smile and Darius swallows. Does he know what I’m thinking? Is he on to me?

“I was just…just thinking of Prim,” he says and feels his heart thud painfully. Marvel nods.

“Ah yes, I suppose she’s thrilled to have Katniss back?”

Darius cannot answer that, a lump blocking his throat but Marvel merely smiles a little wider.

“Terrible how this war has divided our family, isn’t it?” he asks and Darius nods miserably. Will I ever see Prim again? Will she ever even speak to me if I choose to fight with Lancaster? And what of our boy? Will I ever get to meet him?

“I miss my wife as well; I’ve been too long without her.” Marvel suddenly grins and elbows him. “Of course, you know all about Glimmer’s charms don’t you?”

Darius feels his face heat up at this reminder of his ill-fated infatuation with Glimmer. He’d made such an ass of himself trailing after her and composing hideous poetry. He remembers how appalled Finnick had been with sudden, painful clarity and feels his heart give another agonizing thud. If I go back to York I’ll alienate Finnick forever. Maybe, if I stay with Lancaster I can one day make things right between us. But then I’ll lose Prim.

Either way, I cannot win.

“Civil wars are so bothersome. No matter what side you choose, someone you know’s chosen the opposite. It’s all so tiresome,” Marvel says with a sigh and Darius breathes deeply. Marvel is right; the only victory he can hope for is survival.

He must choose which side is more likely to win, just as he always has. Of course, he must also factor in Prim. She is the only one who knows that he gave the Lancastrians the information they needed to drive Katniss from the country, if she tells it won’t matter if he fights for York. They will see him die a traitor’s death anyway. Will she keep his secret? Does she even need to?

Who do I choose? Who’s going to win?

Lancaster? Or York?)

(and who am I going to lose this time?)

*

(As the two armies hurry to meet each other, Marvel feels power surge through his veins.

This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

Vengeance will finally be his)

*

Twenty one days after they first left France, the Lancastrian forces finally land in England.

It is April 14th and the sky is a pearly gray as the ships scuttle into Weymouth, their passengers wretched and weary. Madge is huddled in the corner of their room when the ship finally pulls into port, her forehead pressed to her knees. She feels empty, painfully so, and she smells of seawater and vomit.

“Get up,” Clove barks and prods her with her booted foot. “We’re here.”

Madge looks up at her and feels instantly lightheaded, the whole room spinning. She closes her eyes and Clove makes a rough noise of disgust in her throat.

“You smell foul,” she reports, “and you look it too.”

Madge does not answer but she cannot help but think that however awful she looks, Clove cannot be much better. She blinks her eyes open slowly and the Clove standing before her is disheveled and unkempt, her hair tangled, her skin painfully white with heavy bags hanging below her eyes. There are dark water splotches on her gown and maybe something else, but Madge does not want to look too close. Clove tuts and prods her harder.

“Get up,” she repeats and Madge places her palms on the floor. She can feel the gentle bobbing of the ship as it sits in the harbor and her stomach starts to roil. How can there be anything left? I haven’t stopped being sick since we left and I can’t even remember the last thing I ate. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself up, her arms trembling. Her legs sway as she tries to stand and Clove recoils when Madge leans in her direction.

“Ew, stay away. I don’t need you being sick all over me.” She scampers off and Madge reaches out to the wall to steady herself. Her legs feel like jelly and nausea continues to roll through her, only the thought of solid land giving her any strength at all. She drags herself towards the door and tries not to inhale too deeply, the putrid stench of their sick room only making her feel worse. She shuffles more than walks but she is better off than some of Enobaria’s ladies who lie heaped in the corner and can’t seem to stand at all. One tries to crawl but the rest stay moaning with gray faces. Madge knows how they feel.

Clove has left the door open and Madge chases the scent of fresh air, sucking it deep into her lungs. She stumbles through the doorway and clutches the frame to keep herself standing, the salty wind washing over her like a blessing. The dampness of the day settles heavily over her but still, it is not the smell of puke and fear. The stairs are a struggle and Madge climbs them painfully, her body still weak and aching. Two squires scurry down past her, probably to drag out Enobaria’s ladies, and she almost wants to ask them if they’d mind carrying her the rest of the way.  She makes it out on deck and the harbor is a mess of activity, their boats lined up with men hurriedly offloading horses, arms, supplies and people. Gulls circle above them and Madge casts her eyes over their collection of ships, her stomach dropping when she realizes not all their ships are accounted for. She tries desperately not to let fear flood in but weak and unsteady as she is, she cannot keep it at bay. What of Mother and Annie? Are they alright?

She spots Enobaria on the docks, still looking poised and unaffected, and Madge hurries to join her. Panic gives strength to her legs and she pulls herself along the ship’s rail, past sailors and soldiers and squires. She trips down the gangplank and rushes over the dock, her boots slipping over the wet wood. Enobaria is surveying the ships and Cato stands with her, Clove clinging to his arm. He too looks worse for the wear, his hair blown in every direction, his face pinched and pale, and his clothes wet all over. He scowls at Madge as she approaches.

“You look terrible,” he says and Madge doesn’t bother to acknowledge that.

“Not all our ships are here,” she says in a slightly too high voice and Enobaria merely shrugs.

“We’re only missing a few and they might well have made landfall somewhere else. There’s no need to panic.” It is not a suggestion but a command and Madge bites her lip, swallowing the rest of her questions. She will find no sympathy or answers here.

“Come,” Enobaria continues, “we’ll be staying in Cerne Abbey.”

Madge nods even as her heart quakes and makes to follow Enobaria as she goes. Before she can, Cato reaches out and tugs her hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a hennin? You are my wife after all,” he says and Madge doesn’t know what game he’s playing, but she doesn’t care either.

“It must have fallen off,” she says tiredly and he snorts.

“Or maybe you’re hoping Gale Hawthorne will come swoop you away and you don’t want him to know you’re someone else’s wife.”

Madge closes her eyes and tries to ignore the throb in her temple. She turns to Cato and clutches her stomach.

“Oh no, I think I’m going to be sick again.”

Cato drops her tangle of hair as if burned and backs away quickly. Madge smiles tightly and leaves before he can do something else, the thought of Gale intruding as it hadn’t the entire voyage here. She’d been too sick and terrified to think of him but now he fills her up, her heart trembling for him as well as Annie and her mother. Has there been a battle? Will there be one soon? How are you my love?

Madge closes her eyes and maybe she hadn’t been lying to Cato.

She really might be sick after all.

*

It is Brutus, Duke of Somerset that brings them news.

It is the morning after their arrival and Madge has not bathed yet, though she has managed to sleep, if fitfully. Her dreams are a mess of drowning and battles, blood and sea water, and Madge jolts awake in a tangle of sweaty sheets. She breathes heavily and feels far from rested, her eyes throbbing in her head. She digs fingers into her temples and cringes as a heavy knock sounds from her door.

“The Queen requests your company,” a grave voice calls from the other side of the wood and Madge barely swallows a sigh. She’d much rather stay abed and maybe scrub herself clean, but she knows Enobaria will accept no excuses. If she has ordered Madge to appear, she has no choice but to comply. She is miserable and tired, but she pushes of her blankets and climbs slowly from bed, her legs still not quite steady. The door opens and a sickly faced lady of Enobaria’s shuffles in to help her dress. Madge offers her a sympathetic grimace and digs through her things for a refreshingly unsoiled dress. The lady laces her into it and brushes out her hair, tucking it all beneath a short hennin. Madge glances at herself in the mirror and winces at the wan face looking back, but she knows there is nothing to be done. Their journey has taken far too great a toll for any cosmetics to fix.

“Thank you,” Madge tells her helper, but the lady barely seems to hear her. Glassy eyed and colourless, she curtsies stiffly and stumbles from the room. Madge can understand her suffering. Madge follows her out and a stern face monk waits to lead her to Enobaria. They walk the thankfully short distance to the room Enobaria has appropriated as a dining hall and the scent of warm food assaults Madge as soon as she steps through the door. Her stomach gurgles unhappily and she tries hard not to breathe through her nose. Enobaria sits at the head of the little table, looking far more vibrant than she has any right to after their horrid crossing and Cato stabs angrily at his food without actually putting any in his mouth and glares at his mother over his wine glass. Madge can only guess he is in such a huff because Enobaria has not allowed Clove to join them.

“Ah, Madge, sit,” Enobaria says and Madge offers a wobbly curtsy and tepid smile. She drops heavily into a chair across from Cato and frowns at the spread of food before her. She is too queasy for wine and accepts only water instead, her empty stomach not quite keen to be filled just yet with food. She picks at a piece of bread and Cato sighs broodingly, the scratching sound of his knife dragging over his plate grating to hear. Enobaria ignores them both and eats heartily, merrily munching on cheese and beef. Madge envies her heartiness.

And that’s when the Duke arrives.

He bursts in unannounced and Madge drops her knife with a clatter while Cato chokes over a too big mouthful of wine. He coughs and sputters and Enobaria’s eyes widen, her first sign of emotion all day. The Duke bows curtly.

“Your Majesty, my Prince, I bring grave news.”

“Why weren’t you defending London?” Cato interrupts and Enobaria shoots him a frustrated look.

“We can talk about that later. What news do you have?”

Cato crosses his arms and settles back into his chair to sulk while the Duke presses his mouth into a grim line.

“A battle was fought yesterday at Barnet. It was a rout,” he pronounces with a growl and Madge feels her stomach plummet.

“How?” Enobaria demands and Cato’s nostrils flare even while he continues to pout.

“We heavily outnumbered them and indeed, we were winning at first. The Earl of Oxford was in charge of the right wing and quickly overwhelmed and routed the Yorkist left. Unfortunately his men took this to mean they were finished and fled to the nearby town to ransack it. This allowed for the Yorkist right under that whelp the Earl of Salisbury to inflict similar damage on our left. To make matters worse there was an unnatural fog on the battlefield and because of this, when Oxford finally rallied his men and returned to the battle, they stumbled upon our center and both groups thought the other the enemy. Our men turned on each other and it allowed the Yorkists to focus solely on crushing us. Our forces scattered and collapsed.”

Madge covers her mouth with her hand and Enobaria pinches the bridge of her nose.

“This is a disaster,” she says through gritted teeth.

“It gets worse,” the Duke promises and Enobaria stares at him in incredulity.

“How could it be worse?”

“We should have had the element of surprise, but we were betrayed. That mangy cur the Earl of Northumberland turned traitor and joined up with the Yorkists, bringing his considerable force of men with him. I’m sure he told them every one of our plans.”

Madge feels her mouth pop open and Cato swears loudly. Marvel’s gone back to the Yorkists? Why would they-Of course. They need him, need the huge amount of men that fight under his banner and all the information he must have as well. I wonder how long he’s been planning this. I knew he was planning something, I knew it! That faithless, arrogant, piece of-of-urgh!

“And what of his father? Has the Duke of Clarence gone crawling back to his Yorkist masters as well?” Enobaria spits and Duke Brutus shakes his head.

“No, Haymitch Abernathy fought with us until death.”

Madge feels the floor tilt beneath her feet. Haymitch…dead? Oh no. It is strange, for she and Haymitch were never close and yet still; the thought of him dead leaves her cold with tears stinging her eyes. She remembers watching him sail away so long ago and oh Haymitch, I’m so sorry it came to this. I wish…I wish things had turned out differently. Madge clenches her hands in her lap and Enobaria shrugs.

“Oh well, how tragic. Speaking of, have you heard anything of his wife? My dear niece was on one of the boats that we seem to have misplaced.”

“Yes, I hear she’s taken sanctuary at Beaulieu Abbey. I suppose she’s heard of her husband’s fate.”

Madge nearly collapses under the force of her relief. Her mother is alive and Annie must be too. They’re safe; oh thank God they’re safe.

“Were you at the battle?” Cato demands and the Duke only just seems to resist snarling.

“No, I was on my way here when I got word of what happened. I wanted to welcome you back.”

“We should return to France,” Enobaria says before Cato can continue his belligerence and Madge feels her heart seize at the thought of another Channel crossing. Cato leaps to his feet and slams his hands down on the table, his wine glass toppling over.

“We can’t, Mother! We cannot abandon the fight after coming all this way, we must keep trying!”

“He is right, your Majesty. The Earl of Devon and I are already gathering a force here in the West Country, Thomas of Fauconberg has a fleet ready to descend on Kent and the Earls of Pembroke and Richmond are mustering men in Wales. We have not yet lost,” Duke Brutus rumbles and Madge remembers suddenly that awful Christmas and the savage glint in Brutus’ eyes as he’d taken that poor serving boy off for punishment.

He is just as wicked as Coriolanus. I pray you do not face him Gale.

“It will be a risk,” Enobaria starts and Cato leans forward.

“Yes, but we must take it. We have come too far to give up now. If we wish to rule England again, we must gamble for victory.”

Cato’s words hang in the air for a moment and Madge is not sure any of them breathe. Finally, Enobaria nods.

“Alright, we will make for Wales and Boggs. Let us end this once and for all.”

*

(“I can’t believe it,” Rory says quietly, his eyes fastened on Haymitch’s dead body. Gale squeezes his brother’s shoulder.

“He made his choice,” Marvel says, his voice far too steady for a man who’d just lost his father. Gale glares at him.

“I know,” Rory says, “and I’m not sorry he’s dead. He deserved it. I just…I can’t believe it.”

Gale turns back to his brother with concern. As much as Haymitch has done to them, Gale cannot help the sorrow in his heart as he looks down at the man he’d loved like a second father. It never should have come to this. Rory on the other hand shows no sign of misery or grief, only stunned disbelief.

“We will have to display his body,” Katniss says in a voice that shakes. “To ensure no one tries to claim he survived.”

Gale nods and Marvel lets out a sigh.

“I appealed to him to surrender you know, but he wouldn’t even answer me. Pity.”

“No, it’s not,” Rory says in a hard voice. “He betrayed us, his family. He deserved to die.”)

(Rory is only fifteen, but it is clear to Gale in this moment that his brother is no longer a child)

(Gale wishes more than anything that he still could be)

*

The Lancastrian plan is simple. They must cross the River Severn into Wales and join up with Boggs and Finnick. It is a simple plan, but not an easy one.

The nearest crossing is at Gloucester, which is nearly one hundred miles away. The Yorkists will not be left in the dark for long as to their arrival or their movements, which means they will be desperate to intercept them and force a battle before the Lancastrians can meet up with their allies. It is a race, one Madge is terrified they will not win. Enobaria orders several feints to make it look like they are heading in various different directions and Madge prays it will keep the Yorkists distracted for long enough, but she doubts it. Katniss has proven herself a brilliant military leader, she will surely see through their ploys sooner rather than later. Haste is their best defense. But will it be enough?

Madge has never ridden with an army before, never been so involved in the wars that have plagued England for so long. It is a different, sharper sort of terror to see the faces of the men who will soon go to battle, to know that any moment might reveal a Yorkist ambush. How often had she complained about waiting in a distant castle? She wishes she were there now, rather than here in the midst of the bloodshed to come.

“Ride beside me,” Enobaria says, “and ride proud. You are a symbol of our dynasty; let the men see your courage.”

Never has her role as Princess of Wales felt quite so real and important and Madge knows she cannot afford to show any hint of her fear, worry or exhaustion. No matter how long the marches, and they are always punishing, she must sit straight and tall. She wears her costliest traveling gown and cloak, the best pair of gloves she owns and a hennin with lovely veils that blow in the damp spring breeze. She must be a princess in every way and she will be. Cato too rises to the occasion, looking splendid in silver armor atop his steed. He rides up and down their lines talking encouragement to the men, his tone confident and jovial. Madge can see the men bloom in his presence, drawing strength and determination from his abundant supply. For the first time in her life, she actually admires him.

April is a wet, drizzly mess, the ground muddy and uneven. The air is perpetually chilly and Madge’s fingers grow stiff on the reins, her back aches and she cannot imagine how the soldiers do it, marching so endlessly when she is so tired from riding alone. Still, she cannot let it show. She must be as poised and dignified as Enobaria. The Ice Queen they might call her, the She-Wolf, but no one doubts her strength or her bravery. Madge must be just as reassuring.

Courage, courage for England

Now is the time to be brave

*

(They hear word of Enobaria’s landing two days after she arrives and suddenly Katniss and Gale are in a mad scramble to gather troops and set out in pursuit. They are in London when word comes and unfortunately, not realizing Enobaria was on her way, Katniss had given the men leave after their victory at Barnet. Calls to arms go out in every direction and thankfully, they are answered. Within a few days they have managed to muster a substantial force at Windsor and Gale looks out at the troops with grim satisfaction. It will be a bloody fight, but they have a chance. That’s all they need.

Of course, whatever else they are, the Lancastrians are clever. They send out several feints, each one making it more difficult to determine just what Enobaria’s plan really is. They do not have time to debate the issue, they must make a decision quickly or the Lancastrians may gain far too big an advantage.

To that end, Katniss gathers her most trusted men in Windsor’s council chamber to make a decision and they stretch out a map on the wooden table, every scout’s report they have piled up beside it. Gale and Katniss have both poured through every single one, but Enobaria has not made this easy. If Gale didn’t hate her so much, he might even admire her.

“Most of our scouts say they’re coming for London and that would be a brilliant coup,” he says to their small circle of commanders. Katniss bites her lip, a small furrow appearing between her eyebrows. Gale frowns as he notices it, but carries on. “It would certainly inflame their morale if they could free Coriolanus and eject us from the capital.”

“It would, but I doubt that’s their plan,” Marvel drawls from his spot draped over a chair at the end of the table. “Boggs and Finnick Odair are in Wales gathering troops. They were sent there when Haymitch heard you’d arrived. My guess is Enobaria will try and join up with them. I don’t want to be crude, but we’ll be pretty fucked if she makes it there. Wales has never liked York and it doesn’t help that the Odairs are of Welsh blood.”

Gale tries not to scowl, for he knows they owe Marvel much, but he cannot help the hot rage in him every time he looks in Marvel’s direction. They must be a united front, Gale knows that, but he cannot so easily forget or forgive Marvel’s betrayal. No matter how often he claims he was only being a dutiful son, Gale would bet his life Marvel had been a wiling participant in Haymitch’s treachery. He knows Marvel, has known him all his life, and Marvel has always been selfish and dangerously ambitious. If Marvel has returned to them, it must be about thwarted ambition and not familial bonds, for he has proven he is only loyal to himself. Gale feels fire licking his skin every time he is forced to even think of Marvel, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how galling.

(that does not mean he has to be happy about it though)

“Are you sure?” Katniss asks and Marvel rolls his eyes.

“As sure as I can be. We should try and intercept them on their way to Wales. Making for London is a trick, and if not, well, my apologies.”

His attitude is infuriating, his arrogant smirk more so but Katniss only nods.

“Okay. It makes more sense for them to head to Wales, because even if they take London they’ll still have to face us. Getting reinforcements and then trying to eliminate us is their best course of action. Get everyone ready, we leave as soon as possible.”

And so they do.

The weather starts to grow hotter as April winds down but even so they cannot afford to slow down. The nearest crossing is Gloucester and they must reach it first, they must.

This war ends now)

*

From rain and wind comes horrid heat, the oppressiveness of it weighing on Madge like pounds of lead. Still, they must keep their pace and she tries hard not to let herself wilt. She loses the gloves and her cloak and prays to God for swiftness. They must reach Gloucester before the Yorkists, they must.

They move swiftly, arriving at Bath on April 30th and soon they are on to Bristol to gather more arms, men and money.

And that’s when the Yorkists find them.

*

(“Bristol! The Lancastrians have made a stop at Bristol!” a scout bellows as he charges into their midst and Gale feels his blood roar. He immediately catches Katniss’ eye and they both know what they have to do. They’ve just reached Cirencester, but there is no time to rest. They must ride south and meet the Lancastrians. It is time to finish this.

“Where are they headed?” Gale demands and the scout forces the words out between his panting breaths.

“Little Sodbury, by the looks of it,” he gasps and Katniss nods.

“There is a hill there that would be of excellent strategic value,” she says and she does not need to give him the command.

They make for Sodbury Hill and battle)

*

“The Yorkists are coming, the Yorkists are coming!” a shrill voice screams into the early, early hours of May 1st and Madge feels herself awaken with a start. Her heart hammers in her chest and for a moment she is sure she must have misheard. Maybe that voice was only in my dreams? It is before dawn, the sky hazy with fading darkness and the voice comes again, so very real and terrifying.

“The Yorkists are coming from Cirencester, they know where we are!”

Madge feels a fear so profound she cannot breathe, cannot think and Cato leaps out of the bed next to hers with a howl of rage.

“How can they have gotten here so fast?” he roars to no one and Brutus comes barreling into the room, half dressed and swearing. Enobaria comes running after him and hurls everything off the table in the corner, Madge flinching with every crash and thud as each object hits the floor. Avoiding battle is our best course of action, but how? Can we possibly escape them in time? Enobaria smoothes out a map on the now empty table and she and Brutus lean over it, their voices harsh with worry and frustration.

“How did they get here so fast?” Cato bellows again and Clove clambers out of their bed to attach herself to his side. Madge feels her stomach start to curl around itself and presses both her hands to it, a clammy feeling starting to spread over her skin. What are we going to do?

“I want everybody up, NOW!” Enobaria barks suddenly at them. “We make for Little Sodbury.”

Madge is up without really thinking about it and she dresses mechanically, her thoughts racing far beyond their room. Little Sodbury? What’s there? Is that where this war will be decided? Clove and Cato cling to each other as they run to their horses and Madge hurries after them, her heart pounding so loud she can barely hear a thing in the hectic chaos of their departure.

Are you chasing us Gale? What will you do when you find us?

*

(Night begins to fall, the sky darkening into deep blue with a faint sliver of moon and Gale weaves his horse through the various clumps of men until he reaches Katniss. They are only a handful of miles from Sodbury Hill and Gale feels his blood prickle as it always does when battle is near.

“Ah Cousin, you have the scouts’ report?” Marvel calls as Gale grows close to Katniss and her small knot of trusted men. Gale cannot help the bubbling anger in his stomach that Marvel is among them.

“I do,” he says tightly and Marvel smiles smugly, his eyes bright.  Ever since he had returned to their side, he has been giving Gale the same infuriatingly knowing look, as if there is some juicy bit of information he cannot wait to share. Gale hopes he never does.

“What news?” Katniss asks and Gale is glad to look away from Marvel.

“We’re very close to the hill. Our scouts actually reached it and they were forced to fight. They suffered many casualties, but we can confirm that the Lancastrians are there, all of them,” he reports and Katniss nods thoughtfully.

“We’ll camp here then. The Lancastrians are obviously about to offer us battle, we should let the men rest as much as they can. It has been a hard march from Windsor,” she says and Gale breathes deeply. Soon, this will all be over soon.

Are you over there Madge? Don’t be afraid, I’m coming to save you)

*

Madge had thought she’d known terror, but she was wrong. On the night of May 1st she learns the true meaning of fear.

“The Yorkists have stopped,” a scout tells Enobaria as they camp on Sodbury Hill and Madge has to bite her tongue to keep from sobbing. This is it. Oh God, please keep us safe, please give us victory.

“Excellent. Now we leave,” Enobaria says and Madge looks up at her in shock. It is late evening, the sky dark and the stars peeking out, and the Yorkists are so close, how can they possibly leave?

“Where are we going? Aren’t we fighting?” Cato demands and Enobaria shoots him a sharp look.

“We go north to Berkeley Castle. We will be safe to regroup there and we’ll have a head start of fifteen miles over the Yorkists,” she explains with strained patience and Cato slumps with a grumble. Madge wants to hit him. Why is he so desperate to fight? Does he not understand the importance of meeting up with Finnick and Boggs?

“North?” Clove asks with narrowed eyes. “The Yorkists are north.”

“It is dark,” Enobaria says with a deadly smile, “we will pass right by them.”

“How close?” Cato asks and Madge holds her breath. Enobaria doesn’t answer and Madge closes her eyes in horror.

God have mercy on us

In the end, they pass within three miles of the Yorkists. Madge is so terrified she can’t even think the words to pray. She is surprised she can even manage to ride, her heart barely beating and her breaths slow and shallow. Tears dribble down her cheeks and she shakes all over, her very bones quaking as they move swiftly through the dark night. They make as little noise as possible, go as quickly as they can and still, the only thought Madge can conjure is that of the Yorkists descending upon them. Carnage fills her vision and she bites down to hold in a whimper, the coppery taste of her own blood pooling in her mouth. She cannot hope to keep track of time or distance, but when the sun starts to rise she feels it’s heat like a hammer.

Does this mean…are we safe?

“Look there, do you see it?” Enobaria says smugly and Madge follows her gaze. “Berkeley Castle. And soon, Gloucester.”

*

(“I’m an idiot,” Katniss snarls as they race to follow the Lancastrians, “I let them slip right by us. They never meant to fight. Dammit!”

“At least we know where they’re going, we might still catch them,” Gale offers even as his heart sinks. As much as he wants to be hopeful, he cannot help but think this mistake will cost them everything.

“I doubt it,” Katniss says but she does not sound as defeated as Gale feels. “But they can’t cross if they can’t get through Gloucester’s city walls.”

“You’re going to order the governor to bar the gates? Do you think he’ll listen?” Gale asks and Katniss nods, the steel in her eyes crushing his despair before it can take root.

“He will. I’ll offer him more rewards then he could ever dream of and it’s not as if he’ll have to withstand a siege. We are far too close for Enobaria to take the time to try and break in. She will have to keep going and we will catch her then. This isn’t over. Enobaria has much to answer for and I will not let her slip away again,” Katniss vows.

Gale remembers the sight of their fathers’ heads on the gate of York, remembers the terrified mayor naming Enobaria as the culprit and feels his rage burn black within him.

She will pay for that, for everything)

*

They reach Gloucester the morning of May 3rd and Madge wants to sob with relief. They’ve made it and all that’s left to do is pass through the town to the bridge and cross into Wales. Thank God.

“Open the gates in the name of Queen Enobaria and Cato, Prince of Wales!” someone commands and the army waits eagerly, each one suddenly invigorated at the nearness of their destination. They’ve done it.

Except Gloucester does not open its gates.

“What’s going on? Why won’t they open?” Cato demands and Enobaria’s calm veneer finally cracks.

“That Yorkist bitch!” she shrieks and Madge flinches in her saddle.

“If they won’t let us in we must storm the city!” Cato bellows and Enobaria turns to him with a look of frenzied fury on her face. Her nostrils flare, her teeth are bared and her eyes are wild and wide, the sight stopping Cato’s tirade in its tracks.

“We have no time! They are too close; we must make for the next bridge. Where is it?” she shouts and Brutus swears loudly.

“Upton-upon-Severn, nearly twenty miles away,” he growls and Enobaria lets loose a long string of filthy curses. Madge feels herself blush even as despair settles like a rock in her stomach. We’ll never make it in time, oh God.

“Get going!” Enobaria screeches and suddenly they are riding again.

(except this time will be the last time)

*

The end comes at Tewkesbury

They reach the town that evening, still seven miles from the bridge at Upton-upon-Severn. The men are exhausted and Madge on her horse feels lightheaded with weariness. Her back and neck ache, her legs throb and there is an awful pain in her buttocks from sitting for so long and riding so hard. Her hennin feels impossibly uncomfortable and Madge is so scared she can barely feel it, her mind so wrung out she is almost numb. Looking at the sweaty, wilted Lancastrians arrayed around her, she knows she isn’t the only one. The Duke of Somerset rides up to Enobaria’s side and leans in close, whispering urgently into her ear. Enobaria’s mouth tightens but she nods and Madge knows that must mean they’re going to stop for the night.  The Duke rides off, probably to relay the order and Madge knows she should be terrified, but she can barely feel anything at all.

“Come along, we’ll stay at Gobes Hall,” Enobaria says with a jerk of her head and the royal party follows her. Madge allows herself to imagine a splendid country manor house, a luxurious bed and a steaming hot bath through the fog in her brain, but Gobes Hall turns out to be a farmhouse. Clove wrinkles her nose.

“We can’t possibly be staying here,” she says in disgust and Madge feels her fantasies wither away.

“If you do not like these accommodations, I am sure the men would love to take you in,” Enobaria offers poisonously and Clove turns red. Cato glares at his mother but the queen doesn’t favour any of them with a glance.  She waits for a squire to help her down from her horse and then marches into the farmhouse with enough verve and poise to suggest they hadn’t been riding for their lives at a nightmarish pace for days. The rest of them can’t quite match her. Cato dismounts with stiff legs and a surly face, his stance somewhat bow legged. There are purple half-moons under his eyes and he shakes his legs, but they do not become any less rigid. He stomps over to Clove and helps her down, her face transforming into a scowl as she steps gingerly onto steady ground. She wiggles as if trying to loosen herself up, but as with Cato, it does little good. She winces as Cato leads her into the hall, their bodies leaning together as if to hold each other up against their exhaustion. Madge is so sore and tired she doesn’t care that her husband has abandoned her and she wilts with pain and sleepiness when the squire helps her down. Her legs feel like pudding as she walks over the uneven terrain, the squire’s hand on her elbow the only thing keeping her upright.

“You’d think we were some peasant rabble, staying here,” Clove’s harsh voice says as Madge enters the farmhouse. It is certainly no palace, but Madge doesn’t care, so long as it has a bed. Servants haul in their belongings and Madge wonders if there’s any sort of tub here, she could use a long, hot soak.

“Again, feel free to pitch a tent with the men,” Enobaria says coldly as she surveys their current abode. She does not look particularly impressed, but then, she rarely does. Clove scrunches up her face in anger but remarkably doesn’t say anything in retort. I suppose being queen does have its advantages…

“You must be exhausted,” Enobaria says as she glances at Madge and then snaps her fingers at one of the squires passing by. “Find the Princess some proper accommodations,” she barks and the poor boy nearly drops the heavy coffer he’d been carrying in. He nods and hurries off and Enobaria turns her gaze to Cato.

“We’ll be having a council meeting in the dining room. Divest yourself of any encumbrances,” she says with a sharp look at Clove, “and join me there.” She leaves without needing a response and Cato’s neck turns red. Clove grips his arm tightly and hisses something rude under her breath. Madge watches Enobaria’s back and even though all she wants to do is sleep in a proper bed, she cannot fight the urge inside her to listen in on the council meeting.

“Your Highness? Your room is ready,” the squire from before says nervously and Madge forces a smile.

“Thank you,” she says and he bows before gesturing at her to follow him. She does and he leads her to a small, square room with little in it except a bed, a coffer and a small table. It is shabbier than any room she’s been in before, but Madge doesn’t care. She sinks onto the bed and though it is a straw mattress covered over in a scratchy wool blanket, it feels heavenly. I should just stay here and rest, she tells herself, I shouldn’t do anything but stay here and sleep. She knows this but once enough time has passed to allow the various Lancastrian leaders to gather, Madge finds herself creeping down the stairs to find a good hiding spot to eavesdrop outside the dining room. Knowledge is power and Madge is determined to have as much as possible.

Apparently she isn’t the only one.

The door to the dining room has been left ajar and huddled up beside it and peering inside is Clove. She has her back to Madge and there is a moment when Madge thinks about leaving and avoiding the inevitable confrontation. She is still exhausted, she still aches and if it’s important, she’ll find out tomorrow.  She doesn’t need to do this. She does it anyway. Madge walks over to Clove with her head held high and squeezes in beside her, making sure to bump her hip with hers. Clove snaps her head around in outrage and opens her mouth to say something furious but Madge presses a finger to her lips. She jerks her head at the open door and Clove’s right eye twitches, her gaze hot enough to set Madge on fire. With a violent shake Clove finally submits, her desire to hear what’s being said outweighing her need to yell at Madge. She clamps her mouth shut and turns back to look through the doorway, Madge barely suppressing her triumphant, if weary, smile. She looks inside as well and the most important of the Lancastrians leaders are seated at the table while the rest stand around the room. Madge finds Enobaria immediately at the center of the table with Brutus of Somerset and Cato flanking her.

“I’ve had multiple scouts confirm it; the Yorkists are making camp only three miles behind us. We will have to fight them tomorrow,” Brutus says and Enobaria narrows her eyes.

“This isn’t what we wanted,” she says and Brutus nods.

“I know, but they are too close. If we try and run, they will fall upon our rear. We must fight.”

“I understand that,” Enobaria snaps before forcing herself to calm. “Send a messenger into Wales to find Boggs. Tell him to make as much haste as possible.”

“He’ll never make it in time,” Brutus says at the same time Cato shouts “We won’t need him!”

Enobaria closes her eyes for a moment and inhales. When she opens them again her face is flat but her eyes are bright with aggravation.

“It will do no harm,” she says in a tightly controlled voice and Brutus bobs his head in bow.

“Of course not Your Majesty, I’ll arrange it.”

“See that you do. As for the battle, I should like you to command the right, Lord Wenlock the center and the Earl of Devon the left. I’ll leave the rest of the planning to the three of you.”

“I want to fight too,” Cato butts in, his face awash with eagerness. Enobaria levels him with a cold look.

“I do not think it very wise to risk the only heir to the throne,” she says and Cato bristles at her dismissal.

“I am eighteen now Mother, you cannot treat me like a child!” he bursts out and the room seems to quiet oppressively, every eye fastening uncomfortably on mother and son. Enobaria’s nostrils flare and Madge is surprised fire does not come shooting out. The Queen opens her mouth but Brutus swoops in before she can speak.

“You are right, Majesty, it is a great risk. But he is a man now and our future king. He needs the experience and it will do the men good to see what they are fighting for,” he says smoothly and Enobaria purses her lips.

“Fine,” she says, “you may go Cato and serve under Lord Wenlock in the center.”

The smile that had started to form on Cato’s mouth falls abruptly.

“I should command it! I am the Prince of Wales and the future King of England! I do not serve!” he shouts and though many in the room flinch, Enobaria looks entirely unimpressed.

“Funny, your motto says otherwise,” she says dryly and Cato turns red. “You are a boy with no experience on the field of battle; you will serve under Lord Wenlock or stay with me.”

Her voice is hard and brokers no argument. Cato shakes but does not protest. “You’ll see Mother; I’ll prove to you what I can do,” he says and Clove nods along in solidarity.

“See that you do,” Enobaria says and then turns back to Brutus. Madge feels her heart beat race. The fear that had faded with her exhaustion comes back with violence, her knees nearly buckling. Tomorrow, the battle will be fought tomorrow.

Oh Gale

*

(“I wish I was going with you,” Clove says as she lies in Cato’s arms that night and he nods.

“So do I, there’s no one I trust more to watch my back.”

Clove beams at that and remembers when they were young and all the boys laughed and teased when she’d said she wanted to play swords with them. All the boys except Cato, who’d handed her his wooden sword and never once seemed ashamed if he lost to her, he’d only grin and demand a rematch. Clove was never meant to be a perfect lady, she was meant to slay dragons. Only Cato had ever understood that.

She kisses him and lets her body sink into his, his hands warm as they slide over her back and buttocks. He grins against her mouth and there is no fear in Clove that this will be their last night together, she knows Cato will come back to her victorious. If the Lancastrians have lost up to now, it is only because they’ve trusted incompetents and idiots like Haymitch Abernathy and Finnick Odair. Cato will destroy Katniss of York and her traitor’s army; Clove does not doubt that for a moment. She is only envious she will not see it happen.

“I want full details on everything that happens tomorrow,” Clove insists and Cato laughs.

“Of course. In fact, pick a traitor, any traitor, and I shall bring you their head.”

Clove thinks for only a moment and smiles widely. “Bring me Gale Hawthorne’s head; I’ll share it with Madge.”)

*

(Annie stares out the abbey’s window at night and prays for Lancaster, for her father, for Finnick and Madge above all. There are stars glittering in the chilly night sky and the nightmare of Barnet lingers in the air, the bitterness of its taste one she is far too used to. She doesn’t know where the next battle will be or when, but she wishes on each and every twinkling star that Lancaster will win. She is so tired of defeat and exile and running and fear. For once, Annie just wants to feel safe.

In the distance she can hear the Compline hymns and closes her eyes, lets the monks’ steady voices fill her up. She must have faith that God will see them through this. Annie offers up one last prayer to God, the Virgin Mary, Saint Sebastian the protector of soldiers, and her namesake Saint Anne, and does not fight the tears that slide down her cheeks. They drip down her chin and she thinks of Finnick, pictures him clearly and sends him every last drop of courage she has.

I am with you Finnick, be brave my love

Annie stands and wipes at her face as she walks slowly back to the room the monks have given her, her feet dragging on the stone floor. The candles burn low in their braziers and the shadows cast along the walls make Beaulieu forbidding and dark, far from the great gothic majesty of its daylight hours. She knows they are safe here, but in the cold of nighttime breezes she does not feel very safe. She feels terrified like she has for so many years, ever since that first rebellion almost a decade ago. Even after the king’s readeption, she had not felt entirely secure; there had still been fear of a Yorkists reprisal. She cannot remember what it must have been like before, when England was at peace.

She steps into the chilly passage leading to the infirmary complex and hugs herself, not entirely sure if she is doing it for warmth or comfort. Even with Lady Margaret, the monks and lay brothers, Annie feels so alone here. Women rarely come here and the monks have little use for her, while poor Lady Margaret is so ill she spends most of the day sleeping, or at least trying to. Annie misses Madge and Finnick terribly, almost wishes she could take a horse and ride to their side. She is so far from everything happening and who knows when news might come, who knows when she’ll learn not only if they’ve won but if Finnick has survived? But she can’t leave. She would be of no help to Finnick and someone must look after Lady Margaret. The monks do their best, but she needs more than herbs and prayers. She needs company and comfort. And so Annie stays.

She reaches the infirmary and Lady Margaret is the only patient, her labored breathing the only sound in room. Annie picks up a taper and walks quietly to her bedside, her heart squeezing at how ghastly Lady Margaret looks. Death will come for her soon, there is no doubt of that, but oh, please let Madge see her again first. Annie sets down her taper on the small table by Lady Margaret’s bed and picks up a cloth, dips it into a bowl of water and wipes gently at the blood on Lady Margaret’s chin. She wheezes but does not wake and Annie sends up yet another prayer, this time for Lady Margaret’s failing health. Please give her strength; please do not call her away yet.

Annie wishes there was more she could do to help, not just Lady Margaret, but her father, Finnick and Madge as well, but she knows there isn’t. She is no doctor, no soldier, and so she prays.

Prays and prays and prays)

*

They are up earlier than the sun the next morning, the men hastening to take up position for the battle soon to start and the women preparing to ride away to the safety of a religious house some distance away.  It is a flurry of activity and preparations in Gobes Hall as Cato comes to say his goodbyes and Madge stops her packing to watch him kneel before his mother. Queen Enobaria places a hand on the top of his golden head, pride and fear flickering in her dark eyes. Her voice betrays neither emotion.

“Return to me a victor,” she commands and Cato bares his teeth in a grin.

“I will Mother, I promise you that,” he says in a voice thick with confidence and Enobaria nods. He rises and turns to Madge, his eyes flashing and his smile growing sharp.

“What do you say wife, shall I bring you Gale Hawthorne’s head?” he asks with savage delight and Clove turns to Madge with hungry eyes. They wait, hoping for a scene, but Madge will not give it to them. She dips her head, keeps her face neutral and says with polite docility, “If it pleases you to, my lord.”

For a moment Cato scowls at her refusal to play his favourite horrible game, but then he smiles again, the sight as vicious as it is frightening. He knows as well as Madge does that she might be able to keep her calm in the face of his threats, but if he does bring her Gale’s head, he will get the scene he wants. A sharp spike of hatred drives into her but she cannot let it show, even though all she wants is to slap the smug look off his face and call him every filthy word she can think of. You do not have a hope of besting Gale, you mangy rat. You are not even half the man he is.

Breathing steadily to stem the flow of curses she wishes she could hurl at him, she reaches into the pouch of her girdle and pulls out a handkerchief she’d made him. She curtsies and holds it out to him, not because she thinks he’ll want it, but because it is her duty as his wife.

“A token, my prince, to carry with you through the battle,” she offers and Clove titters nastily. Cato snorts.

“I want nothing from you,” he says with a rude guffaw and Enobaria frowns deeply. There is a reprimand on the tip of her tongue but Madge beats her to the punch.

“Truly? Then might I ask why you are wearing the purse I made you?” she asks with a pointed look at it hanging from his belt. Cato’s face loses its colour for a moment before burning crimson and Clove widens her eyes in outrage, purple fury rising to her cheeks. Enobaria beams with naked pleasure and Madge does not let it show, but there is a wicked part of her that would love to gloat.  Cato chews angrily on his words, clearly struggling with a suitable comeback or explanation, while Clove begins to shake, her eyes bouncing between Cato, Enobaria and Madge as if she cannot decide which of them to direct her rage at. For a moment Cato glares at Madge with so much fury she half expects him to leap over and strangle her, but Enobaria shoots him a quelling look.

“Take your leave of your wife and join your men,” she commands and Cato swallows, leveling her with a mutinous look. He stalks over and Madge offers him her hand with as sweet a smile as she can muster. He pinches her wrist and bites her skin instead of kissing it, her face rigid to avoid showing any pain.

“Rot in Hell, bitch,” he whispers to her hand and then he is gone, stomping out of the room with his hands curled into tight balls at his side. Madge watches him go with what she hopes is a suitably melancholy expression and Clove runs after him, the unabashed fury on her face making it clear she intends to tear him apart over the purse. Enobaria turns to Madge with a smile.

“Excellently done,” she purrs.

Madge turns back to her packing.

*

(Clove rushes after Cato with black anger in her chest.

How dare he! How dare he, that ass! Ass, ass, ass! How dare he!

She plans to scream, shout, but she never gets the chance. As soon as they are out of sight of Enobaria and Madge, Cato stops walking and turns abruptly, so abruptly Clove bumps right into him. She glowers up at him and opens her mouth to say something, but the words die on her tongue. His eyes are dark and serious, his face so grave she cannot remember just what it was she wanted to say.

“Cato…” she manages and he grabs her arms and pulls her as close as she can get, his mouth descending on hers in a kiss so passionate it makes her toes curl in her boots. He crushes her to his chest and without thought she melts into him, her mouth eagerly devouring his. There is an intensity in this kiss she has never felt before and she finds herself so hungry for more she chases his mouth as he pulls away.

“I love you and no other Clove, always,” he vows against her lips and then he is gone, long strides carrying him quickly away from her. She stands alone in the hall, out of breath from the ferocity of his kiss and for the first time since they’d sailed from France, she feels the very beginnings of fear.

Come back to me Cato, come back to me or I will never forgive you)

*

Madge rides beside Enobaria to their refuge and tries not to the think of the battlefield she is leaving behind.

Gale is there, closer now that he has been to her in over a year, but there might as well be an ocean between them. She cannot go to him, cannot see him and she clenches her hands around the reins, her heart pounding out his name.

Be safe Gale, please my love, survive this battle. You have to live, even if I never see you again, you have to live.

*

(Cato takes his position just behind Lord Wenlock and looks out at the armies arrayed before and around him. He cannot make her out from so far away, but he can see Katniss of York’s standard bearers, her white roses and cats fluttering in the early morning breeze. She is in command of the centre of her army and Cato feels a thrill race through his bones. They will face each other and he cannot wait to cut this usurper down to ribbons. And of course, he will have to find Gale Hawthorne as well, he did promise Clove his head. He wouldn’t mind a chance at turncoat Marvel either, for betrayal cannot be forgiven. He’ll take them all down and prove to all the world what they should have always known. He is the rightful king of England and no one else.

He will make them sorry for ever doubting it)

*

It is the Yorkists who make the first move.

Banners unfurled and waving, trumpets blowing and committing her cause and quarrel to Almighty God, the Virgin Mary, to glorious Saint George and all the saints, Katniss of York advances upon the enemy.

The Battle of Tewkesbury has begun.

*

Madge tries to embroider but her hands shake, each and every stitch crooked and done wrong. She unpicks them and tries again, but she cannot still her trembling. Enobaria paces down the hall, the clop clop of her boots reminding Madge of horses and thus, inevitably, of cavalry charges. The thought is a cold one and she shivers with fear, so so much riding on this one battle. She should pray but her mind is in disarray and she is not even sure she knows who or what she should pray for. Everything has become so muddled.

“I hate waiting,” Clove says sourly from the corner by the window she’s wedged herself into and Madge nods in agreement. Clove offers her a sneer.

“I should be out there, not cooped in here with you,” she spits and Madge doesn’t know how to answer that, so she merely nods again. Clove huffs dramatically. Madge closes her eyes and listens to the clop clop clop of Enobaria’s frantic boots and Clove’s angry sighs and suddenly a prayer comes to her.

Please let this be over soon, let this waiting be done

*

(The air is rent by screams and blood is heavy on the wind, Gale’s nose burning with it as he slashes his way through the mess of men and horses. There is gore stained across his armor as he catches someone’s axe with his shield and he can barely see through the sweat dripping down into his eyes. It is chaos, but then, battle always is. Rory follows tight at Gale’s heels and Gale allows his brother to guard him for a moment as he accesses the situation. As commander of Katniss’ vanguard he cannot afford any mistakes and he scans the field of unfolding carnage all around him. He finds Katniss in an instant, her standard bearers ranged around her and her sword catching the sunlight as it swings through the air. He grins, inspired as he is always is by her unstoppable advance, and returns to the fight with a vicious whack of his sword against the legs of an enemy knight, those legs crumpling and exposing the man’s neck for a finishing blow.

Rory pushes against Gale’s shoulder and there is a certain tinge of desperation in the air here. York had won at Barnet but that victory will mean nothing if they do not triumph here. Today must be the day Lancaster falls and the war ends. Gale tightens his grip on his sword, breathes in the scent of death and devastation and charges into the thickest of the fighting, his men surging after him.

They must win here. They will win here)

(I’m coming Madge, hold on just a little bit longer)

*

“A messenger!” Clove screeches and Madge leaps nearly out of her skin, her heart thumping in her throat. Clove throws herself almost out of the window and Enobaria comes running down the hall, her hennin barely hanging onto her head.

“Are you certain?” she asks, voice higher than normal and Clove nods, half her body dangling outside as if she hopes to reach down and tug the messenger up to them. Madge presses her hands to her stomach, fear and anticipation writhing within.  She is sick with terror and Enobaria begins to pace again, around and around in ever tighter circles.

Oh God, this is really it

Oh God oh God

Ages later the messenger finally reaches them, his hair matted and flattened with still wet blood that drips down onto his grimy face. His hands shake as he kneels before Enobaria, his surcoat stained and foul.

“Your M-majesty,” he greets in a small voice and Enobaria finally stops her pacing. She looks down at him with boiling eyes, her mouth pressed together so tight it does not seem as if she could ever open it. It is Clove who demands answers.

“So? What’s happened?” she asks, face feverish and the messenger looks up and Madge suddenly knows what he is going to say even before the words leave his lips.

“It’s over.”

end of part two

[faequeentitania]

Bridge Crossing; Young Gods of the Galaxy, Part 3

1/1, FinnReylo/Finnlo, Canon Divergence, Supreme Leader Kylo, Empress Rey, Stormtrooper Finn, General Audience

[[”It had been interesting, watching the friendship grow between Finn and her husband. They had seen each other naked, they had seen each other come, but where Rey had immediately been open and interested in getting to know the handsome Stormtrooper they had brought into their bed, it had taken Kylo more time to become truly invested in Finn beyond his ability to physically satisfy Rey. Once that bridge had been crossed, however, the two men had found themselves far more companionable toward each other than either of them had thought they would be.”

So I wrote that paragraph in “Together, Apart” just as a brief exposition on the progression of Rey, Kylo, and Finn’s relationship, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see what that “bridge crossing” looked like between Finn and Kylo. Ergo, this:]]

On AO3  ♥  Part 1  ♥  Part 2

Finn's experience on Canto Bight was... interesting. The place was flashy and beautiful, for sure, and his curiosity was absolutely burning with the desire to explore the city. The man he was there with, though, not so much.

Kylo hadn't stopped scowling since they landed; irritated to be separated from Rey, irritated to have to step foot on “such an unsavory planet,” and irritated by the man they were there to meet.

“Why not send someone on your behalf?” Finn had asked him, earning him a huff and a scowl from the Supreme Leader.

“Because I don't trust anyone not to get fucked over by this asshole. Nenn Cato has resources that are valuable to us, but he'll do anything he can to give us as little of it as possible for the most profit in return.”

After meeting the man, Finn had to agree; Cato practically oozed that disarming kind of sleaze that made your skin crawl. Finn had no doubt that everything Kylo said about him was true, but the result, unfortunately, was that Kylo's mood was sure not to improve for the duration of their stay. It definitely made him wish Rey was there.

It wasn't the first time the Supreme Leader and the Empress had needed to attend to different matters on different ends of the galaxy, but it was the first time Finn had accompanied Kylo all alone.

“Finn’s going with you to Canto Bight.”

“I don’t need him.”

“Kylo, I'm not leaving the Finalizer, I'll be perfectly safe here overlooking the fleet in the Hutt system, but you need someone at your back.”

The resignation in Kylo’s features was proof he knew he would be caving to Rey’s request, but still the Supreme Leader huffed and crossed his arms.

Finn, meanwhile, remained silent. He knew better than to get between the leaders of the First Order, but it didn't change the fact that he was uneasy being witness to this particular conversation, especially with Kylo looking so displeased by the prospect of having Finn accompany him.

This was still new to him, officially being promoted to their personal security; an excuse to have him at their side whenever they desired, but by no means an empty position. He still trained with the Troopers, he still had many of the same responsibilities, but now he was likely to be pulled away at a moment's notice; either to pleasure the Empress or to accompany them across the galaxy.

Then Kylo’s gaze turned to him, piercing stare always feeling like it was cutting right through Finn, before he sighed and shook his head. “Very well. Finn will accompany me, if it will make you feel better.”

“It will.”

Which left him standing over Kylo’s shoulder, doing his best to look intimidating as Nenn Cato’s men stood against the opposite wall, all of them watching the terse negotiation unfold.

“I’m not a fool, Cato, you can’t inflate the price of that shit and think I won’t notice.”

It was not going as smoothly as Finn had hoped; Kylo’s icy, efficient rebuttals to Cato’s various offers clearly starting to tick the other man off.

“My dear man-” Cato was giving him a smile as fake as the gold decor, “-perhaps you’ve just been a bit too busy to keep up with the current rate? Leading such a victorious enterprise as you do-”

“False flattery will not sway me, Cato.”

Cato leaned back in his chair, his eyes flat and cold. It made Finn uneasy.

“No, I daresay it won’t,” Cato murmured quietly, stroking a finger over his lips as he regarded Kylo for a long moment.

Finn shifted, glancing from Cato to his guards, who looked just as annoyed as their boss as Kylo dryly continued to criticize Cato's contract.

“Tell you what, Chief,” Cato had the daring to eventually interrupt, and the stiffness of Kylo's shoulders told Finn exactly how much the Supreme Leader did not appreciate it, “take some time in the casino. Have some drinks, play at a table, let a call girl chat you up, whatever strikes your fancy. I'll look over the contract again, see what better deals I might be able to cut you. We both want to walk away satisfied, don’t we?”

“I'm not interested in gambling, I'm here to talk business with you.”

“Indeed, indeed, my friend, but the business is not going, is it? You're not happy with the contract, I'm not happy with the contract, and now that I've seen what you want I think we can come back with something better tomorrow, no?”

“Tomorrow?” Kylo scoffed, folding his arms and shaking his head. “I think not.”

“Come now, come now. We are both reasonable men, are we not? You will do me the professional courtesy of allowing me proper time to draw you a new contract, won’t you, Supreme Leader Ren? It's what good business partners do; that’s important in our line of work.”

Even Finn could sense the subtle threat in Cato's words; play nice, or I'll make sure no one plays with you at all.

Clearly Kylo did too, seething with frustration but giving a curt nod anyway, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he stood.

“Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow. Thank you, Supreme Leader Ren, most generous of you.”

Cato's voice was so oily Finn was sure you could use it to grease a droid’s joints, and his overly cheerful platitude just another dig he clearly enjoyed twisting into Kylo's side.

Finn hurriedly moved to open the door so they could make their exit from the private room, Kylo’s cape swishing past his side as they stepped into the hall.

“Slimy bastard,” Kylo murmured angrily once the door whooshed shut behind them, Finn moving quickly to keep up with his long strides. “He doesn’t need until tomorrow to draw a new contract, he’s just trying to sweat me out, make me hasty. Kriffing swindler.”

Finn didn’t reply, letting Kylo lead them in the direction of the suite he had been given for the duration of their stay, however long that ended up being.

“What do you want to do in the meantime?” Finn asked him, pulling the key card from his belt and swiping it over the entry pad beside the door to let them in.

Kylo scoffed as he stepped through, taking the key card from Finn's fingers before turning to look at him, taking up the doorway rather obviously. “I have work to do. You, however, are free to go. I will call you if I need anything, just keep your comm on.”

With that, he closed the door, leaving Finn alone in the hallway.

“Oh... okay then.” Finn murmured to himself. Guess he'd have time to explore Canto Bight's various entertainment options after all.

***

He was a little drunk. Just a little. He felt entitled to it, honestly, after the day he'd had. Cato, Kylo, the terse hours of negotiation and fake pleasantries.

So he wandered; he had a couple drinks (something called a “Purple Ice,” which the bartender recommended to him), he learned a dice game, he watched a haunting performance by a singer called Diva Plavalaguna, he cheered on a fathier race.

The whole place was so strange and busy, teeming with life, and it was funny to think of how Canto Bight was so similar to the Finalizer and yet so different. Both busy around the clock, both bright with constant light; but where the First Order ship was black and white, sharp lights, sharp corners, sleek floors—here it was warm, soft light and swooping, flowing decor, the sound of laughter and tinkling glasses instead of hard boots on durasteel floors and clanking machinery.

His exploration took up several hours, and he returned to his room pleasantly buzzed and full of good food, and he thought that would be the end of his evening. That he’d shower and change, maybe spend a little time on the balcony looking out at the city scenery, then go to sleep.

Instead, at Rey’s behest, he found himself at Kylo’s door shortly thereafter.

“Please check on him,” she had asked him over a comm call, “He’s frustrated, but he won’t talk to me. Says he doesn’t want to distract me with his troubles. Idiot.”

Finn had had to hold back a snicker at that, but ultimately agreed. He had a feeling there was very little he would not do if she requested it, though in this particular instance he wasn’t sure how much use he could be.

Still, he found himself before the Supreme Leader’s door, and balked when it opened before he could even touch the entry pad.

“I sensed you coming this way,” Kylo informed him as he stepped into the suite, the Supreme Leader slouched down in a plush chair in casual clothes, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and a short drink glass in his hand. It was half-filled with an amber liquid, and Kylo took a sip from it as the door slid shut behind Finn.

“Have you just been in here drinking all night?” Finn asked him, and Kylo snorted.

“Of course not. This is only my second.”

That was good, at least. Finn would have been a hypocrite to criticize him for having a couple drinks, as he was still pleasantly warm himself from the ones he had consumed, but there was definitely a difference between a “couple drinks” and nursing a bottle of hard liquor all night. (Something he had witnessed unpleasantly for himself on one of his trips off ship with them to meet with several planet leaders.)

“What do you want?” Kylo wasn’t one for beating around the bush.

“Just... checking in.”

Kylo snorted again, giving Finn a look. “More like checking on. I know my wife, FN.”

Finn felt his neck get warm at being called out on his true purpose there, and he shifted his weight, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I just do what I’m told, sir.”

Kylo finished his drink with a grimace, getting up to pour himself another. “Yes, Finn, I know.”

Finn wasn’t sure how to interpret that, and he shifted his weight again. Something felt off. It wasn’t unusual in the slightest that Kylo was being aloof and uninterested in him, that happened all the time, so he wasn’t sure what it was that was tugging on his instincts.

“You may go,” Kylo threw over his shoulder. “As you can see, I haven’t been murdered or kidnapped, so your duties have been fulfilled.”

“I don’t really think kidnapping was on Rey’s mind when she asked me to check on you,” Finn found himself murmuring. Kylo turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You already know my frustrations, Finn. Cato is testing my very last nerve with this contract; I’d tell him to go fuck himself if I didn’t think he’d take it as an opportunity to turn around and sell to the fucking Resistance,” Kylo growled, looking out the glass of the balcony to Canto Bight’s skyline. “Hell, he’s probably doing that already, slimey low-life that he is. And I’m concerned about Rey handling the situation in the Hutt System. I know she’s capable but I still prefer us tackling situations like that as a team.”

He scowled as he sighed, returning to his chair before taking a mouthful of his drink. “Fuck, I just want to go home, I hate this place.”

His scowl darkened, and Finn shifted his weight from one foot to the other again.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle this conversation. He and Kylo didn’t really talk; not on their own, anyway. Rey was always there, always a conduit between them. He found, suddenly, that though he had spent months in their bed, sharing Rey between them, he didn’t really know Kylo very well.

Unexpectedly, Finn found himself wanting to help, but he was at a loss as to how. Were it Rey, he would offer to take her to bed, but with Kylo...

“Wanna beat the crap out of me for a bit?”

The alcohol he had drank earlier must have gone to his head more than he first thought, if he was dumb enough to make such an offer. Kylo seemed to think so too, his brow knit in confusion as he stared at Finn for a long moment.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well... you like to fight when you're worked up, don't you? We could spar or something, if it'll make you feel better.”

Still Kylo stared at him, a puzzled little crease between his eyebrows.

“We don’t have to,” Finn added after a moment. “It was just... you know, a suggestion.”

The tiniest of smirks quirked at the corner of Kylo’s mouth. “You want to fight me?”

“I never said that,” Finn said hastily. “I really think both me and Rey would prefer it if you didn’t kill me.”

Kylo slowly stood up, taking another mouthful of his drink as he stared contemplatively at Finn for a long moment.

“Alright,” he said simply. Then with a flick of his hand the furniture was being pushed back, clearing a space in the center of the room for them.

Finn was suddenly nervous. He had sparred with Kylo before—getting upgraded to “personal security” for the Supreme Leader and Empress demanded him to be able to fight on the same level they could—but that had been with padding and a mat under their feet, and definitely not with alcohol in their bloodstreams.

Still, he had made the offer, and they weren’t too drunk, plus this place had to have first aid kits, if need be, surely?

Finn bent down to remove his boots, then shrugged out of his jacket as Kylo knocked back the rest of his drink and returned the glass to the table before stepping forward, rolling his shoulders.

“I’d, uh... appreciate it if you didn’t try to break my bones,” Finn said apprehensively, the both of them readying themselves, loosening muscles as they started a slow circle around each other.

Kylo actually chortled. “You’re making it sound like I’ve tried in the past. If you recall, it was Rey who broke your nose last time.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want you taking inspiration from her.”

Another tiny smile, and Kylo put his hands up, knees bent slightly, ready to go, and Finn mirrored him. Then quiet, both of them concentrating as they took light swings and jabs at each other, blocking and dodging.

Finn felt an undeniable thrill of victory when Kylo blocked Finn’s fist only for Finn to manage to clip his cheek with an elbow, getting a grunt out of him as he stumbled back. Finn took Kylo’s surprise to his advantage, rushing forward and getting an ankle behind his knee to take him to the floor. It was a short-lived victory, of course, Kylo using Finn’s momentum against him to roll him off and under him, following through to pin one of Finn’s wrists while he pressed a forearm against Finn’s throat, along with digging one knee into Finn’s thigh.

“Fuck,” Finn cursed, struggling against the hold, infuriated by Kylo’s haughty smirk above him.

“Gotta do better than that, soldier,” Kylo murmured, almost sing-song—the asshole—and it motivated Finn to get his free leg up, nailing Kylo in the side with his knee before hooking his heel against Kylo’s hip, using the leverage to push him up and to the side.

Instead of following, Finn scrambled to his feet, twisting his wrist out of Kylo’s grasp and shaking his head a little at the slight headrush. He should not have had those drinks.

Kylo hurriedly followed his lead, getting back on his feet, panting as he gave Finn another little grin. “Not bad.”

Finn huffed, keeping his hands up defensively. “Gee, thanks.”

A few more swings and swipes, trying to stay out of each other’s reach while still ducking in to land a hit, and Finn was starting to tire. It wasn’t surprising, considering the hour and alcohol, but he refused to be the one to concede. At least he could take comfort in the fact that Kylo was looking run down too, panting and sweating as he blocked another swing of Finn’s arm.

Finn grimaced as he finally let Kylo get close, using the opening provided to him by the taller man taking a swing at his cheek—and landing it, the impact smartly stinging despite the clear restraint they were both using to not actually hurt each other—to grab hold of him tightly, grunting as he twisted to throw Kylo over his hip. The sound of him hitting the floor with a thud was a short victory, however, when Kylo pulled him down too.

Somehow Finn still managed to stay on top, using his entire weight and strength to pin the Supreme Leader down until the taller man went limp with a snarl and a huff.

“Fine, fine, I yield.” Kylo blew a stray lock of hair out of his face, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back against the floor. “Fuck, I shouldn't have had that third drink.”

“Mm-hm, keep using that as your excuse,” Finn retorted, rolling off to the side ungracefully to land on his back, starting up at the ceiling as they caught their breath. Kylo chortled in answer, resting his hands on his abdomen and taking a long, slow breath in and out.

Finn was already a bit sore, a few bruises sure to bloom over his skin in the next hour or so, but nothing too bad. He was pleasantly surprised; he had expected at least one bloody nose or split lip, but apparently they were better at pulling their punches than he first thought they would be.

“Alright?” Finn asked in a mumble a few minutes later, eyes closed.

Kylo hummed affirmatively in answer. “You?”

“Nothing’s broken or bleeding, so I can’t complain.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am surprised. You didn’t even want me here, I figured you’d take the opportunity to kick my ass and make it look like an accident.”

Finn could feel Kylo’s eyes on him, and reactively clenched his jaw tight. He probably shouldn’t have said that; that was a little too candid of a way to speak to someone who was still technically his ruler, despite the fact that Finn got to see him orgasm on a regular basis.

“It’s not personal, Finn,” Kylo murmured. “I just didn’t see the need for you to come; Canto Bight might be a magnet to all the galaxy’s slimiest criminals, but there are strict rules here. You can’t have a paradise planet if you let the patrons assassinate each other.”

“Plus the fact that you don’t actually need me.” He wasn’t stupid; he knew that his “promotion” to their personal security was for show. They didn’t need personal security; they could kill anyone they wanted to six different ways before Finn could even pull the trigger on his blaster. He was for the Empress’s pleasure, and his new position was simply a means to allow her easier access to him. Which is why he really didn’t know why she had been so insistent that he go with Kylo to Canto Bight.

Kylo was quiet, just breathing for a few moments. Finn was mentally preparing himself for the task of getting up; he was tired and starting to get sore, he needed to get off the floor and get to bed, and so did Kylo.

“Thank you, Finn,” Kylo’s voice was quiet, and Finn kept his eyes closed as he listened. “For suggesting that we spar. It has been quite useful to me this evening.”

Finn opened his eyes, finally pushing himself to sit up, then stand up, reaching a hand down and offering it to the Supreme Leader, who was watching him from where he was still laying on the floor.

“It’s been my pleasure, sir.” Kylo took his hand, gripping it tight as Finn pulled, the grip lingering for a moment once Kylo was on his feet. He was just watching Finn, a contemplative look in his eyes, and Finn felt uncomfortable heat creep up his neck at being analyzed so intently.

“Good evening, Finn.”

“Good evening, sir.”

[[I’ve decided that Nenn Cato is my Kilgore Trout. Liable to pop up at any time, in any fanfic universe, whenever a space gangster is needed.

Also I don't really know much about hand-to-hand combat, so forgive any glaring mistakes.]]

[jlalafics]

“Same Old Lang Syne”-an Everlark Holiday Fic

Happy Holidays y’all! So wonderful to be writing again!

Summary: On Christmas Eve, Peeta Mellark returns to his hometown and the love of his life. 

We drank a toast to innocence We drank a toast to now We tried to reach beyond the emptiness But neither one knew how…-Dan Fogelberg

“Bro—” Thresh threw the football up from where he laid in bed. “—there’s no food around here.” Catching it easily, he looked to Peeta who was packing his suitcase. “Is anything open in this town?”

He gave the man an easy smile. “Panem is one of those sleepy towns where everything closes at 6.”

Closing the luggage, he checked his phone to see a text from his mother: ‘Can we expect you home?’ and five missed calls Haymitch, the band’s manager—probably making sure that the boys were okay. Peeta was the trustworthy one and, unlike the others, least likely to be out somewhere getting wasted.

“Maybe Finnick or Cato has something for you to munch on?” Peeta suggested.

“Come on man!” Thresh gave him a pout. “I’m the lead singer of the band. I need to be in tip-top shape…”

“That’s pathetic, dude.” Peeta reached to the floor, grabbing a discarded pair of socks and tossing it toward his bandmate. “But, because it’s Christmas Eve, I’m going to go out in this weather and get you some food.”

“You’re the best, man,” Thresh responded before tossing Peeta his wallet. “Food’s on me. Just don’t forget the Cheetos like last time.”

Peeta grabbed his puffer jacket, zipping it up quickly before putting on his trusted beanie. “Once again, you are pathetic.”

Thresh chuckled as he opened the hotel room door. “You know you love me!”

“Yeah….yeah…” He saluted his friend. “I’m a little too incapable to love.”

Checking to make sure he had everything—phone, Thresh’s wallet, motel key—Peeta headed out into the quiet Panem winter.

++++++

‘Thresh said you were on a food run. Can you bring back some beer?’

Responding in agreement to Finnick’s text, Peeta turned the cart with his free hand to get to the liquor aisle.

CLANG!

The sound of metal crashing brought him back from his reverie. He inspected his groceries, making sure that nothing was broken.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

The panic in the woman’s voice told him that she seemed  just as distracted as he was.

“No, no…I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He watched the dark-haired woman scramble to make sure her own items were intact before looking to him. “Katniss?”

Tucking a stray tendril behind her ear, Katniss Everdeen—his high school girlfriend—gave him that all too brilliant smile. That smile that always made his heart drop to his stomach.

“Peeta,” she greeted breathily, her arms wrapping around herself anxiously. “What are you doing in Panem?”

“My band has a performance two cities over,” he informed her. “Wow…you haven’t changed a bit.”

She still carried herself with grace—even in an old overcoat, fitted sweats, and UGG boots.

They met during their senior year of high school. He was a transfer student from an international school; his father Tom worked for the U.S. Embassy and the Mellarks were living in London when he was transferred back to the States.

Katniss had been his student guide, giving him a tour of Panem High and showing him the ins and outs of the school. Peeta was mesmerized by her. Her eyes—a molten grey—made him tongue-tied, a first for someone who considered himself almost too confident for a teenager.

“Thanks…I think.” Katniss smiled softly. “You haven’t changed, either.” Her hand reached to brush some snow from his jacket and his breath caught at the endearing motion. It was so her, that need to take care of others. “Still very much that blue-eyed boy.”

She looked a little smaller; a little sadder.

And her eyes, though still very captivating, held something else in them—and he wanted to know what.

“Walk with me?” He was already reaching to put her things in his cart.

Cereal, milk, a can of lamb stew…and Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts—his favorite.

Katniss didn’t hesitate. Her smile brightened her olive complexion, making his heart flip in a way that he knew would break him.

“Always.”

++++++

Her car was a mini-van, a non-distinguishable beige with comfortable seats and cat fur on its dashboard. They settled on having their mini-reunion in the parking lot of the grocery. The store had already closed for the night, its large neon signage already off and the inside dark.

“Prim’s cat,” Katniss informed him as she handed him a can of beer from the grocery bags in the backseat. Quickly, she swiped along the messy dashboard. “The damn thing sheds everywhere and Prim couldn’t bring Buttercup with her when she moved so I was stuck with it until my neighbors took him.”

“How is Prim?” he asked.

“She’s in San Diego.” Katniss opened a can of her own and took a long sip. “Joined the Army right out of high school.”

“Prim?” He recalled Katniss’ golden-haired sister; a petite, skinny ball of energy. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“After Mom and Dad died, we put what was left of their money into paying off the house,” she said wryly. “There was no money left over for college and the Army was offering her a chance to get medical training and travel. She’s a Head Nurse now.”

Peeta could tell that Katniss was worried by the way she wrung her hands. He recalled the many times during their senior year when Katniss would have panic attacks over exams and he’d watch the motion over and over while she pored over textbooks.

Usually he could calm her by taking her hands in his and giving them a solid squeeze.

“Prim’s going to be fine,” Peeta told her. “And, what about you? What school did you end up at?”

Katniss finished off her beer before responding, “None of them.”

“What?” He whipped around in his seat to meet her eyes. “You were the smartest girl in our class—the valedictorian…voted ‘Most Likely to Succeed’!”

“After you left, Mom and Dad got in the accident.” She looked out into the empty parking lot. “I just kind of froze, you know? I couldn’t concentrate and then other stuff happened.”

“Like what?”

“I got married.”

Peeta took a long gulp from his can. “Oh.”

“And divorced.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t help himself. “Who was it?”

“Gale Hawthorne.” Peeta blanched and Katniss let out a loud laugh at his expression. “Tell me how you really feel, Mellark!”

“Oh you know how much I loved him,” he retorted with a roll of his eyes. “How did he weasel his way up in there?”

“You weren’t here—” The hand wringing began again. “—and I was lonely.”

Peeta took her hands in his, squeezing them firmly like he used to do. “I’m here now.”

She stared down at their joined hands. “For how long?”

He couldn’t answer.

++++++

“I kept tabs on you.” Katniss handed him the open bag of potato chips that was supposed to be for Thresh. “You seem to be doing well.”

“I enjoy what I do.” Peeta dug into the potato chips but not before glancing at Thresh’s fifth ‘Where are you?’ text on his phone. “I love our fans, but sometimes the traveling sucks.”

“I have your first album.” Her face flushed at her admittance. “I listened to it all the time. It was just so you! I mean, Thresh is singing but it’s your words that are coming out. It’s just that I know your writing so well.”

“What’s your favorite song?” he asked in curiosity.

“‘She Never Knew’.”

His question came out with a hoarse squeak at the end. “Why?”

Peeta had written the song when he was knee-deep in heartache for the very woman that sat next to him. They had ended things knowing that their relationship wasn’t going to last. Peeta was going to an art school in San Francisco and she was destined to attend one of the many Ivy League schools on the East Coast that were begging for her attendance.

“Because it’s about me!” Katniss was buzzed as she began to sing in that low melodic tone that he would fall asleep to…after. “She has no idea. The effect she can have...”

Peeta groaned. “You know me too well!”

“After all these years.” She beamed at the thought, her expression falling slightly. “God, I was so in love with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What use would it have been?” Katniss looked to him and he ached to see that her eyes were watering. “We were heading in different directions. It was better to end it the way we did—with a bang.”

Peeta snorted. “Literally.”

She clanked her beer can against the one in his hand. “Here, here.”

++++++

Instead of taking a taxi back to the motel, Katniss insisted on driving him. She parked in an empty space close to his room and quickly turned off the engine so the noisiness of the old van wouldn’t wake the occupants.

They sat in silence, both sharing a singular thought.

He didn’t want to leave and neither did she.

“What are we doing?” she asked, almost of herself.

“I don’t know.” Peeta took her hands. “But to me, it’s like we were never apart. And, I don’t know you—the you now—but I know that your hands still tremble when you’re nervous. That your voice is still as beautiful as it sounds when I dream about you. That I’ve been an empty shell…and you’ve brought me back to life in just a few hours. That has to mean something.”

Katniss blinked, not bothering to wipe away her tears. “Or it doesn’t have to mean anything, Peeta.”

Peeta could hear the goodbye in her voice.

It was almost too much to take.

“I guess I was wrong,” Peeta grounded out slowly. “I’ll go.” He opened her passenger door, willing himself out and onto the wet concrete before turning to her drawn face. “Merry Christmas.”

Closing the door, Peeta turned before he did something stupid—like cry or ask her to marry him.

“Wait!”

Then Katniss was in front of him, breathing heavily into the cold air. She stilled, staring at him for a moment before wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his.

She still kissed the same—with purpose.

His arms wrapped around her slim waist pressing forward and putting everything he had into this moment, as if to anchor her to him.

Always.

They finally pulled apart, opening their eyes to the reality that they lived in—that, eventually, Peeta would have to walk back into his motel room and resume his life with the band that he thought his life was devoted to.

And she…

Katniss would go back to her home—with her single can of lamb stew and the Pop-Tarts that they should be eating together as they celebrated Christmas.

Her hand reached to cup his cheek and his eyes closed, falling so easily into her touch.

“Your mouth quirks to the left when you’re anxious, you hate artichokes, and you sleep with your windows open—even in the winter. And you hope more than anyone I’ve ever met. I know you. More than you know.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Anything else?”

“You know this isn’t the end,” she told him, giving him that smile as she pulled away. “Merry Christmas, Peeta.”

++++++

“Will you turn off that light?” Thresh groaned, his head rising from his pillow. “I mean, how can you still be awake? You’ve been playing that riff for almost an hour.”

Peeta put down the guitar and looked to his friend. “Just give me a little more time. I can’t get these words out of my head.”

“Alright,” his friend relented before laying back down. “You must have one hell of a muse.”

Peeta smiled to himself. “You have no idea.”

The song would be done by morning.

And, he knew exactly who should hear it first.

Katniss Everdeen’s address was unsurprisingly easy to find.

++++++

“Merry Christmas, Katniss,” Rue, her neighbor, said as she gathered her things from the worn couch. “Everything was quiet.”

“Thanks Rue.” Katniss toed off her boots before reaching into her bag and handing the young girl the can. “For your grandmother. I know how much she loves this stew.”

“Awesome!” Rue gave Katniss a quick hug before walking out the door and across the hall to her own apartment.

Removing the rest of her outerwear, Katniss turned off the television that Rue had been snoozing in front of before heading to the back of the apartment quietly. She knew she had groceries to put away but there was something that she needed to do first.

Going to the door, she turned the knob slowly before slipping inside.

The nightlight was already on, illuminating the lone figure asleep in the bed, his golden locks reflecting in the soft light.

After closing the window, Katniss sat by his side, her hand running along his unruly hair.

There was a shift on the mattress and she was greeted with those round, cerulean eyes.

She never told Peeta the reason Gale left.

Besides both being way too young, Gale could not stand to see this miniature version of her former boyfriend no matter how much he insisted that he loved her enough to stay.

A little after Owen turned two, Gale went out one night and never came back. The divorce papers were in her mailbox two weeks later.

Her sister had been furious at her ex-husband, but she had taken it with a calm acceptance. In the end, Katniss knew that they weren’t meant for one another, her heart had been long gone before their marriage.

There were so many moments when Katniss had thought of picking up the phone and calling Peeta to tell him. However, when she heard his debut album and their son kicked in her belly for the first time, it had assured her that it was the right decision to let him go.

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Mommy,” the soft voice of her son called her from her thoughts. “Did you get my Pop-Tarts?”

She smiled. “Of course, I know that they’re your favorite.”

He nodded, his eyes fluttering as he fell back asleep. “Merry Christmas, Mommy.”

Katniss leaned down, kissing her son’s forehead.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

FIN

++++++

“Same Old Lang Syne” is a favorite holiday song of Hubbs and I. Such a bittersweet holiday song, right? If you haven’t heard it, I suggest you check it out. I believe that it was based on an actual meeting that Dan Fogelberg had with a former girlfriend.

It’s been a long while since I’ve written anything but I really enjoyed getting back into the writing game. Please have mercy if I’m a bit rusty.

And, if you haven’t heard, the reason that I’ve been MIA is because I had a baby! She was born early and was in the NICU for a month and a half, but is now home for Christmas which is the best present ever.

So, if you notice a lag in updates to my stories, just keep in mind that it’s because I’m currently changing diapers and making bottles.

Happy Holidays everyone!

-LaLa, Hubbs, and Baby J