Chapter Text
There’s Always Love
Prologue
When Katniss’ father died in a mineshaft collapse, it took exactly eight days for her mother to follow him. Carine Everdeen had stuck around long enough to stand with her two daughters in the drizzling rain and accept a ‘Medal of Valour’ on her husband’s behalf, long enough to escort her children home, to feed them and comfort them, promising that ‘everything was going to be alright’. She had taken her own life while Katniss and Primrose Everdeen were at school, the day after their mandatory mourning period ended.
Katniss had pushed open their front door after school, clutching her seven year old sister’s hand, and then immediately backed out again, pushing Primrose behind her to hide the view.
There was no ambulance in District 12, there was just the endless walk back to town and a knock on a Peacekeeper’s door. Primrose was pale and weeping- too little and too confused for the harsh lines of District Twelve, and Katniss was sullen and silent, saying only what needed to be said. They were in the Community Home within the hour.
Primrose Everdeen would reside there for a week.
Katniss Everdeen would live there for four years.
Chapter One
The fight- if you could call it that- had drawn quite the crowd. The rabid kind of cheering that only comes after blood has been spilt rang through the air. Peeta Mellark didn’t want to watch but, like everyone else in the schoolyard, he was drawn to the commotion like a moth to a flame.
Leevy Williams was crying, one of her two long braids had been severed at the jaw and it hung sadly from her clenched fist. In front of her, Katniss Everdeen knelt cruelly on Davie Pitcher’s back. Her hand was knotted in his dark hair, pressing his face into the dirt as she hissed something unintelligible into his ear. Her lip was split, and she spat a bloody mouthful of saliva onto his temple. The crowd let out a whoop of approval.
“Leevy, give me his knife.” Katniss commanded, voice ringing out above the crowd. Leevy did so without a word, wiping at her eyes furiously. Katniss tightened her grip on Davie’s curls, holding him steady, and used her other hand to smear her bloody saliva into his scalp. Behind him, Peeta heard Maisie, the butcher’s daughter, retch in faux disgust. Carefully, delicately, Katniss then raised the knife to Davie’s temple. The crowd was silent and humming as Katniss tilted her wrist. The blade ran over Davie’s skin with a faint whisper, and Katniss repeated the motion several times before handing the knife back to Leevy. She twisted her hand in the boy’s hair, forcing him to turn his head so that she could inspect her work. Finally, she smiled. Digging her knee into his back, forcing all of the air out of his lungs, Katniss clambered to her feet and dusted herself off. Her blouse was ripped and her faded plaid skirt was covered in mud, one of her long socks had slunk down to her ankle, and the other, miraculously, still sat at her knee. When Davie regained his breath and staggered to his feet the crowd erupted into laughter, finally seeing what Katniss had done. She had shaved away a large patch of his hair, making him look as though his hairline was receding. Even Leevy, face blotchy with tears, let out a shriek of laughter. Katniss grinned wolfishly and stepped towards her friend. The two girls linked arms and slunk away. Immediately, the crowd began to dissipate, but Peeta stayed, watching the two figures following the well trod path to the District’s Community Home.
“Seam kids are something else…” Kieran laughed, Peeta turned to see his friends waiting for him. Maisie let out a giggle,
“Practically feral.” She agreed, “Everdeen’s a beast.”
“I feel sorry for Leevy…” Delly sighed, “Her lovely long hair.” Maisie nodded at that,
“I don’t know what I’d do if someone cut my hair like that.” She said, twisting a blonde ringlet around her finger.
“What? You wouldn’t get into a brawl?” Kieran exclaimed in pantomime shock, “Pin the guy and shave him?” He continued. Maisie laughed, shaking her head.
“I’m going to find Prim.” Peeta cut in. The conversation was making his head hurt. He should have been paying closer attention. He had seen Davie acting oddly, smirking and idling by several different groups of girls during their lunch period with his hand buried deep in his pocket, but he hadn’t thought much of it. People didn’t generally mess with Katniss Everdeen, or Leevy by extension, but Davie had never been particularly smart. He cursed himself for not watching closer. He turned away from his friends and headed to the front of the school building, running his hand through his hair worriedly.
Prim was sat on the stone steps leading up to the school doors. Her fists were clenched in her pink skirt, face pale and downcast as she waited for him. He knew upon looking at her that she had already heard about the fight.
“Hey Primmy.” He said softly, sitting down beside her on the steps. She didn’t look at him. He sighed. “She’s fine, don’t worry.” Prim still didn’t look at him, but her shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied, stiffly. He knocked his knee against hers,
“She was actually very impressive. Davie is now a fair bit balder than he was before.” He murmured. A smile tugged at Prim’s lips and she glanced at him,
“She really shaved him? I thought people were exaggerating…”
“Like a sheep.” He said, nodding sombrely. A small giggle escaped her then. Peeta clambered to his feet, offering Prim a hand up, which she accepted with a smile. “Come on then, let’s not leave dad waiting, he wants to make a few batches of sugar cookies tonight.” He said. Prim’s eyes lit up as they began to make their was home to the bakery.
It wasn’t quite cold out, but the warm glow of the bakery was always soothing. As they entered, Mrs Mellark glanced up from where she sat at the counter. At the sight of Prim, her face broke out into a smile, as it always did.
“Primrose!” She cooed, extending her arms. Prim fluttered into Mrs Mellark’s embrace and Peeta ducked past them into the kitchen, tugging his apron down off the hook. His father was taking the first batch of sugar cookies from the oven as he came in.
“Peeta!” Mr Mellark said, a less exuberant, but still warm greeting from his father, “Right on time, I’ll mix the next batch if you get started on icing these.” He said. Peeta nodded, washing his hands and then ducking into the cupboard to gather the icing sugar and the piping bags. Prim appeared in the doorway, tying an apron around her waist as she did so,
“I can help too.” She said. Mrs Mellark appeared behind her,
“Change out of your nice dress first Primrose, you don’t want it stained.” She said.
“Yes mama.” Prim chimed, returning the apron to the hook and quickly running to get changed. The moment she left, Mrs Mellark glowered at her son.
“You’re late.” She snapped. Peeta flinched.
“I needed to speak to coach about our training schedule.” He said, thinking quickly, “They’re moving practises to after school on Thursdays instead of Tuesdays.” This was true, although it had been announced in last Tuesday’s practise, as opposed to after school on a random Wednesday. Mrs Mellark scowled, but seemed to accept his words. She turned, stalking back out to man the counter. Peeta exchanged a look with his father before beginning to ice the cookies. He quickly went into autopilot, allowing his mind to drift back to that afternoon’s skirmish.
It wasn’t Katniss’ first fight. Far from it. She had been in more brawls than him, and he was on his school wrestling team, but it had been the first in a while. There had been a period of time where Katniss had worn a black eye more often than she hadn’t, and it was disconcerting to see her with a split lip once again. People had seemed to get the message that she wasn’t someone to be messed with. Whether you won or lost, you always came out a lot worse off than you were going into a scrap with Katniss Everdeen. Peeta supposed Davie might not have realised that going for Leevy was basically the same thing, though how he had missed that was beyond him. The two girls had been attached at the hip for years. With their long dark hair and olive skin, they could have been sisters- they even did their hair the same, presumably coordinating every morning before school. He wondered how they would manage that now that half of Leevy’s hair had been hacked off. He iced the final cookie on the tray and set them to dry before wiping down the counter and starting on another batch. Behind him, his father hummed softly, slightly discordant, but soothing nonetheless, and Peeta heard Prim thumping down the stairs. She skidded into the room and tugged her apron down, tying it and eagerly peering at the sugar cookies. She had taken longer than usual to get changed, Peeta wondered if she, too, had been thinking about Katniss Everdeen.
Primrose didn’t talk about her older sister often, but Peeta knew she missed her. He slid her the mixing bowl and she groaned, feigning exhaustion as she began to stir the mixture. He prodded at her arm,
“Put those toothpicks to work.” He said. Prim laughed, stirring with more vigour, and Mr Mellark slid another tray into the oven before coming over to inspect the cookies Peeta had just iced.
“Good work.” He said, smiling, “I think three batches will be enough, so once that batch is in the oven, get started on a few loaves of Fruit Bread.” Peeta nodded, and Mr Mellark turned his smile on Prim, “Put a bit of effort in, Primmy.” He teased. Prim huffed out a laugh and Mr Mellark poked her cheek affectionately before returning to his own patch of counter top to start on a loaf of Rye Bread.
They didn’t generally do too much baking in the afternoons, most of the work was reserved for the early mornings, so they retired early. Peeta ducked into his room to work on his homework, and could faintly hear his mother speaking softly to Prim through the wall. His mother doted on Primrose. She had always wanted a daughter, Peeta was the third of three boys, and due to complications with his birth, Mrs Mellark was unable to have a fourth. When they adopted the pale, blonde haired, blue eyed Primrose at seven years old, she was like the daughter Mrs Mellark had always wanted. Any mention of Prim’s former family was strictly forbidden in the Mellark household.
Peeta’s homework was interrupted by the arrival of Rye. Their older brother, Bran, had moved out two years ago, having married Matilda Wickholm, the Greengrocer’s daughter. This left their shared bedroom pleasantly spacious. Rye threw his bag down on the floor and threw himself onto his bed noisily.
“How’d your date go?” Peeta asked, glancing at his brother’s sour expression.
“Fucking Hawthorne.” Rye said. Peeta snorted. Gale Hawthorne was Rye’s main competition in winning over the female population of District 12. Where Rye was charming, blonde and warm- Gale was sullen, dark and unapproachable. Today was clearly a loss for Rye.
“Bad luck.” Peeta said, unsympathetic, turning his attention back to his homework.
“You won’t be laughing when he sets his sights on Everdeen.” Rye said, “Everyone knows he’s just waiting until she ages out of the reaping.” Peeta flinched at this truth. While not close, Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne often crossed paths. Both of them hunted in the forest just beyond the fence and had been known to collaborate when one or the other of them caught a particularly large animal. More worryingly, for the past two years, Gale had asked Katniss to dance with him at the Harvest Festival, and he watched her like a hawk during school hours. Peeta scowled. Rye was right. Gale Hawthorn was nothing to laugh about. He didn’t even know Katniss had been in a fight that afternoon, he had been too busy competing with Rye at the Slag Heap.
“Fucking Hawthorn.” He muttered. Rye huffed out an irritated laugh.
The next morning came far too soon. Though school didn’t start until nine, Peeta was up before five and down in the bakery. Prim sat half asleep on a stool beside him. No one made her wake up, but she was determined to work as hard as the rest of them, much to his amusement. Her head lolled and she jolted upright, blonde hair askew. Peeta slid her a piece of Fruit Bread, and she mumbled a thanks, stuffing it into her mouth blearily. Peeta’s mother was still asleep, there would be no waking her until at least nine, by which point the Mellark children would already be at school. Peeta, Prim, Rye and Mr Mellark worked in companionable silence until a rap at the door jolted them out of their quiet. There was the other reason that Prim insisted on waking up at the crack of dawn with the rest of them.
Mr Mellark swung open the door to reveal Katniss. She was wearing her large leather hunting jacket and slacks, same as usual but her hair- her hair had been chopped to the jaw. Peeta felt his hands freeze in the dough he was kneading. For as long as he could remember, Katniss’ hair had been long, snaking down her back or over her shoulder or twisted up in the complicated braids herself and Leevy had mastered. Now it hung, feather-like and dark to her jaw. Tiny twin plaits kept her face clear of any stray hairs and- Peeta’s eyes drifted down to her slender neck, now entirely exposed. Rye elbowed him and Peeta resumed kneading the dough, ears reddening. Katniss and Mr Mellark spoke quietly, voices nearly inaudible. Prim subtly shifted in her chair, trying to catch sight of her sister. She stood and carried a bowl of flour from one side of the room to the other uselessly, watching Katniss from the corner of her eye. Katniss didn’t glance at her. Finally, negotiations finished and Mr Mellark accepted three fat squirrels, shot cleanly through the eye, and retrieved a loaf of fruit bread and two sugar cookies. In the doorway, Katniss glowered at the doorstep until Mr Mellark returned. She murmured her thanks and then turned and left. Once she was gone, Rye cleared his throat.
“Prim, could I have my bowl of flour back, please?” He asked, mouth turning up slightly at the corner. Prim flushed scarlet,
“Sorry!” She squeaked, rushing the bowl back across the room.