The Hunger Games: Continued

Much I Do's

Everything is so tragically wonderful.
After all, after blood and loss, we are here.
We are damaged and we are beautiful.
I am ready to give myself up, after being only one for so long.
I do.
Much I do's.

In the crowd, my mother, sorrowful, sunken, smiling no matter what.
In the crowd, Gale, unforgiven, unforgotten, I'm glad to see your face again, old friend.
In the crowd, Annie and her son, forgiving, understanding, selfless, hauntingly familiar.
In the crowd, Effie, Johanna, Cressida, Pollux, Plutarch, Beetee.
Hello old friends. Hello.

By my side, my arm hooked through his. Haymitch. Giving away something no one ever had is a challenge, but if anyone should do it, it should be him.
The dress is beautiful, thanks to Effie's assistance. It cannot compare to my Capitol dress, but then, the person who wore that dress was not me. This is me, plain and simple, white lace, long trail. The hand holding the bouquet of flowers trembles. The closed door to the justice building is right in front of me, after it opens there will be no turning back. After it opens, I will be presented with my family and friends, the beautiful display of flowers that Effie created. And at the end of the room, Peeta.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Haymitch nudges me, reassuringly. I unhook my arm and turn to face him.
"I think so," I let out a long breath, "a little nervous."
"You don't say," laughs Haymitch. "You know, sweetheart...I think this could possibly be the best decision you've ever made." I smile, because he's probably right.
I sigh. "Any last advice?" I ask him, with a smirk.
"Don't run off." He says with a crooked smile, but then his eyes bore into mine, intensely. "I'm serious."
Should be easy enough. I won't run off. I hook my arm through Haymitch's once more. One, two, three. The door creaks open and we walk. Left, right, left right. I focus on my steps, I smile at my guests. At the end of the isle, my future, my love, my everything. It's okay to admit that. You'd be nothing without him, I tell myself.

Peeta smiles sheepishly from the end of the room. I keep walking, trying to avoid the eyes of Gale. I'm not quite sure what Gale's outlook on this situation is. Angry? Happy for me? Indifferent? Of course, it has been more than three years since I seen him last.

Haymitch lets me go. I'm walking on my own now. Only then do I realise how much I was relying on him. I can feel myself shaking. Don't run off. Then I'm standing in front of him. Peeta. His smile remains plastered on his lips, but he must sense my nerves. He leans forward to whisper in my ear. "You okay?"
"Yes. Never better." My voice comes out shaky and Peeta narrows his eyes. "That wasn't sarcasm." I clear up. Peeta smiles again.
"You look beautiful." Then he turns away.

Peeta looks wonderful. His suit, chosen by Effie, has a primrose in the pocket. His cheeks are rosy, his smile bright. He doesn't look like a man. He looks boyish and sweet, young, gentle. You could never see his past behind those bold, blue eyes. He looks happy, happier than what would seem possible. Then, I feel myself mirroring his giddiness.

This is it.

"Peeta Mellark, do you take Katniss Everdeen, to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do." He says, immediately turning to me.
"And do you Katniss Everdeen, take Peeta Mellark, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do." I say, without an air of hesitation.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Peeta moves into kiss me, I can hear the crowd cheering and awing as his lips meet mine.
Nothing has ever been so perfect.

Mrs Mellark. Katniss Mellark.

***

Of course, in old district twelve tradition, Peeta and I invite our guests home for our toasting. The toasting is a marriage tradition that goes generations back. It is the literal meeting of bread and fire.