DRABBLES | A Thousand Years
INDEX OF IMPORTANT INTERACTIONS.
01. REUNION 02. SEPARATION + TIME APART
03. RETURN + THREE WORDS 04. PROPOSAL
05. WEDDING + TOASTING 06. FIRST CHILD + PREPARATIONS
07. BIRTH 08. CAPITOL VISIT + THERAPY SESSION
09. SCANDAL 10. SECOND CHILD + CONFIRMATION
BONUS → PLAYLIST: [ LISTEN ]
INFORMATION ABOUT THE DRABBLE.
GENRE: Romance, family, fluff, and angst.
RATED: M for mature themes.
CHARACTERS: Katniss, Peeta, Ember, and Rowan Mellark.
SUMMARY: With the help of the interactions above, this is the story of our Everlark in its entirety. From the start of their relationship to their last breaths -- and beyond.
CLICK THE READ MORE TO CONTINUE.
Darling, don't be afraid,
I have loved you for a thousand years,
I'll love you for a thousand more.
It was a miracle. For the first (and most likely last) time, Katniss was glowing. She wasn't the one seeing herself as beautiful, of course, and Peeta always seemed to think she was, but there was something about this pregnancy that made her radiant again. She didn't hide or slouch -- although, that wasn't to say she wasn't still shy about her changing body, even if it wasn't anything her husband hadn't seen before. All the same, she took to wearing an array of colorful, billowing dresses to go with her blossoming appearance.
Especially that summer.
The heat got to be a bit sweltering, but, overall, it was a joyous time for the Mellarks. Business at both bakeries was steady, and allowed Peeta to stay home with his pregnant wife and newly three-year-old daughter. They took several trips down to the beach house that Peeta had gotten her for Christmas to relax and splash in the waves. Katniss slathered sunscreen on her family, playfully scowling at their complaints. Her rounded belly shone proudly in the sun, and, upon occasion, she caught a certain blond baker staring at her with a soft smile.
She couldn't decide whether she liked that look, or the dark, hungry one he fixed on her in the shower later that day, better.
Katniss knew the levity in their lives couldn't last forever, though. Rowan, who they had decided to name after a type of tree to continue the nature theme, came too early. Not to mention, the labor was far longer than Ember's had been, and, in the brunette's opinion, much more painful. She screamed at Peeta, as she had last time and as most women tended to. That, unfortunately, meant that their daughter could rarely be in the room. Their fights were fleeting and infrequent these days, so she had started to cry the moment she had witnessed her mother lash out at her father. She had become even more pleased at the idea of a sibling, and even offered to help Katniss when her brother arrived, but her parents knew that she was still too young to truly understand what was happening.
It didn't get any easier to explain. Rowan was too small, too sickly. Katniss cried constantly, tired and worried and hormonal. She just wanted her blond baby boy in her arms. Instead, he was placed in a glass case, all sorts of wires sticking out of his feeble frame. They didn't want to show such a heartbreaking sight to the boy's sister -- especially if, for whatever reason, he didn't make it. Ember became upset, however. It hurt the mother's heart to watch Peeta try and explain the situation. Eventually, because they didn't know what else to do and had grown weary of their daughter's tantrums, they brought her to see Rowan.
Big, blue eyes turned to their reddened sets. "He'll be okay," was all she said, and crashed into her parents' legs, wrapping her little limbs around them. The two collapsed to the ground, and held the girl tightly, crying into her silky strands.
A month later, they returned to District Twelve with their two children.
Peeta tried his best to reassure his wife. She often refused to set Rowan down, and feared every tiny sneeze and cough would lead to something worse -- something that would finally steal her baby boy from their world, and send him into the one where the majority of their family waited.
Thankfully, time proved her wrong.
They named Madge their children's godmother, and she brought Blossom to play with Ember while she cooed over Rowan's flushed, cherubic cheeks and golden curls so similar to his father's. She smiled warmly as she told Katniss that the baby had her eyes. That Ember and Rowan were the perfect combinations of her and Peeta.
It wasn't until later that the huntress realized just how right she had been.
Ember resembled her mother in looks, but her father in personality. She was kindhearted, and had sobbed hysterically the first time she walked in on Katniss skinning a rabbit she had snared. And, while her artistic talents exceeded those of her mother's, it appeared her true passion was baking. She moved with the same ease as her father. The pots were in that cabinet, the spoons in that drawer; a dash of this, a pinch of that. Many instances, Katniss had watched fondly, Rowan perched on her hip, while the father-daughter duo worked in perfect sync.
Her singing voice was what surprised them. Somehow, they hadn't noticed the change until she was murmuring a melody in the kitchen during her first attempt at baking a batch of cookies by herself. Before then, silly tunes and old lullabies had been sung in a rather high, wobbly, and definitely childish voice, but what they heard was far from that. It was low and clear, similar to her mother's. To help restrain themselves from praising her second, possibly secret skill, they eagerly stuffed her immaculate cookies into their mouths.
Naturally, Rowan resembled his father in looks, but his mother in personality. Peeta joked that it was because of the way she clung to him as a baby. While he did turn out to be quite the mama's boy, so to speak, he also gave her a great deal more grief than his older sister ever had. He was rebellious. He liked to test their limits. Yet, at the same time, he was utterly devoted to the members of their family. He latched onto his mother, giggled the loudest with his father, and followed Ember wherever she went.
He turned out to be a painter. Katniss had mistaken one of his finger paintings for something Ember, who was three years his senior, had done. She was even more shocked to discover that her sweet baby boy loved the wilderness, as well as the whoosh of her arrows flying through the air. At one point, for his birthday, she presented him with a miniature bow. They practiced everyday. After a few years, he was able to hit a squirrel right in the eye, just like his mother.
Seasons changed, years came and went. Katniss and Peeta continued to have periods where they struggled with normality, and their children became more and more aware that something was -- well, different. Rowan was the one who crawled into bed with his mother on those days where she failed to get out of it in the morning. Ember's voice, so alike yet so different from the love of his life's, always cleared the fog from her father's head. They urged them to hunt or bake. They kept them together.
Eventually, they were obligated to an explanation.
Ember was twelve when they finally told her. They reasoned that it would be easier to understand when she was the age they had been at their first Reaping. By then, she had already been introduced to the history of the Games. She sheepishly admitted to reading farther ahead, noticing her parents' names in the index. When they were finished telling her the real story, she couldn't look at them without crying.
She told them she was proud of them, and that, one day, Rowan would be, too.
And he was. But he was livid first. His rage reminded her of Gale's. He gasped out tears of pain, though, and she knew it was all her own.
More time passed.
Ember became a teenager, and Rowan became a preteen. They bickered, like most brothers and sisters. However, whenever they teased one another about crushes, Katniss and Peeta tensed. They had never been more relieved to have freed their country, but how were they supposed to watch their children fall in love? They knew it would be easier, and the heartbreak hopefully less severe -- still, they fretted.
Would they find the kind of love their parents had?
Because their flame was still burning bright. When they wanted to, they made love in the evenings. Peeta was better than ever at making her body sing, and Katniss had become an expert at stifling her sounds. Afterwards, they would lay together, sated and tangled in the sheets, grateful that, in the end, their lives had taken this fortunate turn.
They watched Ember and Rowan grow into individuals. They continued to be there for many of their firsts, such as their weddings and children. Tears dripped from their eyes, crinkled from age and mirth. But there was more to it than that. Their hair turned coarse and gray. They developed coughs and aches.
Peeta kept getting sick.
It was never anything serious, but it was. Doctors told them that his body was simply starting to shut down. It had endured too much during his teen years. Katniss knew what they meant: Peeta had lost his leg in their first Games, suffered through another after that, then was tortured for information he didn't have. Still, it pained her and their children.
When they knew he was getting closer and closer to passing, they took turns sitting with him for hours at a time. Once, during her shift, Katniss clasped her husband's cold, wrinkled hand, and silently urged him to say what he needed to.
By now, Peeta knew better than to propose she look for happiness elsewhere. They were old, and had lived a good life together after the war. So, instead, he urged her to keep living.
"I -- I know that we've always talked about not being able to live without one another," he wheezed, "but I don't want that for you. Please, Katniss. Stay here with Em and Ro for a few more years. I'll still be there, with everyone else, waiting for you. You can live a -- a little longer, can't you?" She was quiet. "Promise me. Please."
She did.
But she could only keep that promise for so long.
After the family had said their final goodbyes and held a funeral for Peeta, Katniss didn't know what to do. She had, reluctantly, accepted that her husband had been dying, and braced herself for the impact. Still, sobs had wracked her body for hours. She stayed hidden away for days. When she finally pulled herself together, the huntress started to notice all the little ways that Peeta was no longer there.
For instance, when baking got to be too much for his joints to handle, he had asked that a plate of cheese buns be delivered to their house every morning. Ember, her husband, or sometimes even one of their children, would arrive at their door each day to pass him a box. If they had a few moments to spare, he would speak with them, then retreat inside to set out a display for his wife.
There were no more cheese buns.
Ember and her family were busy at the bakery. They had taken over and remained at the one in Twelve, but the ones in Seven, and the third they had built in Four, were also thriving. Katniss didn't want to bother them with the trivial issue of loneliness.
Rowan came by every now and then, clearly concerned, but he had just settled into his life, and she hated the thought of distracting him, too.
That was where Johanna came in. Since Greasy Sae, Haymitch, and her mother had died decades prior, there was no one else left to care for Katniss -- except for a certain crass brunette, of course. The latter was as feisty as ever, and dragged the other woman out of bed when needed. They took walks in the forest. She listened to Johanna regale tales of her childhood. Years lost were found and made up for.
Although Katniss enjoyed her new companion, in the end, it wasn't enough.
As the date of Peeta's death neared, his widowed wife started to become similarly ill. Ember and Rowan called in the finest doctors to inspect her in the safety of their childhood home. They exited the bedroom, shaking their heads. They were baffled. Nothing seemed to be wrong with her.
Her children knew better.
A broken heart, they whispered to each other sadly. They had seen firsthand the adoration of their parents. Not the footage from the Games, but the way they looked at one another from across the dinner table. They had heard their mother mention the spiraling sadness of their grandmother after their grandfather had died. Perhaps this wasn't much different.
While the two murmured in the hallway, Katniss closed her eyes, smiling faintly. She knew her time had come. She would be joining her husband, as well as the rest of their families, soon.
She decided to spend her last moments envisioning the best parts of her life.
Her father's melodic laugh. Prim's toothy grin. The way her mother's nimble fingers felt in her hair. Madge's friendship and unfailing support. Gale and his determination. The calming tone of Cinna's voice. Haymitch's gruff but genuine chuckles. The shine in Finnick's eyes. Annie's gentleness with her son. Johanna's brash nature. Her first kiss with Peeta -- with anyone. How they overcame everything, and created something wonderful together. How much she missed him...
When she opened her eyes again, she was there.
And, oddly enough, there looked a lot like the meadow back in Twelve.
It was lush and green. The abundance of foliage undulated in the light breeze, swaying hypnotically. Katniss was forced to squint as a result of the blinding sunlight overhead. Although the scene before her was nothing short of beautiful, she noted that the vastness surrounding her was empty of other beings. She wondered if that meant she was expected to spend her afterlife alone.
"Katniss."
No. Of course not. Peeta had never broken a promise to her before. Why would he start now?
"Peeta?"
Whipping around, she met the pair of twinkling blue eyes she had been eagerly anticipating.
"Miss me?" he asked with a small, amused smirk.
Rather than reply verbally, Katniss stumbled into his awaiting arms, and wrapped herself around him like a vice. He smelled young and healthy, that familiar musk of man, with hints of vanilla, stronger than ever before. After inhaling it, she stifled a sob against his chest.
"Shh," her husband hushed. "Don't cry, baby girl." His palms slid down her spine, slow and soothing, just like she remembered. The big, briny tears only grew that much fatter, slipped down the curves of her cheeks that much faster.
"You're here," Katniss managed to gasp.
"I'm here." She could feel his lips curl into a smile against her forehead.
"And you look so young," escaped her in the next breath, incredulous.
Peeta chuckled. The sound was rich, its timbre low and deep. It shook her to the very core. "Yes," he replied, once settling. "You do, too."
At that, Katniss leaned away. It had yet to register in her mind that her body had also changed. It appeared as though she was around the same age -- twenty, she guessed. Enough years after the war that her form had healed, softened, and was able to sustain life again. More than her own, even. After all, she had gotten pregnant with their first child, their daughter, then.
"I love you," she confessed in an instant, and surged forward, her heart urging her not to waste a single second. They felt especially precious after a long, lonesome year apart.
Their mouths crashed together. They tangled tenderly, a practiced dance of pushing and pulling. Katniss couldn't help but exhale in utter contentment, "Peeta..."
"Babe," he mumbled, his tone weak in terms of reprimand. "I love you, too..."
"But?" his wife prompted in a rather disappointed murmur. She drew back, and peered up at him from under the dark fringe of her lashes.
"We have company."
It was then that figures began to slink from within the cool shade of the nearby forest.
Her family.
Prim.
"Prim!" she repeated aloud. The cry was hoarse with disbelief. She shot Peeta a frantic stare before departing in their direction.
The force in which the sisters collided nearly knocked them over. It was the joined arms of their parents that kept them from doing so. "Prim," Katniss cried as three sets of limbs enveloped her. "Mom, Dad... You're all here." It felt crippling, having them so close. For so long, their family had been broken -- but not anymore.
Her father was the one who answered, "We're here." His response was similar to her husband's. However, his was filled with trepidation rather than amusement, as though he couldn't quite believe it himself.
They embraced and spoke for some time. Peeta approached early on to stand by his wife's side. When the Everdeens finally decided to return from where they had emerged, the sun was setting on the horizon. Katniss had yet to understand this place or its concept of time, but the view was magnificent. She expressed her thoughts to Peeta, who agreed. He looked, enraptured, at the painted sky then at her. A blush bloomed in the apples of her cheeks.
"Peeta?" she started softly once they were seated comfortably in the grass.
"Hm?" escaped him as a questioning hum.
"Where's your family?"
There was silence for a minute, then, "I've seen my dad. My brothers, too. Despite everything, it was great, actually. I've... missed them." She nodded in understanding, her eyes a gentle, liquid silver.
"And your mother?"
"No." A pause. "She's... She's not here, Katniss."
The brunette raised her arm to press a couple fingertips to his heart. "Oh, Peeta," she sighed sympathetically. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he blew out in a heavy breath. "She was a cruel woman. You know that."
"But I also know how much you wanted to -- to talk with her."
On nights when their growing children laid asleep in their beds and they had already physically proven their love in theirs, Katniss and Peeta divulged their memories to one another. Her husband, after years of needling, told her about his mother's abuse, father's love, and brothers' teasing. She told stories like she had in the cave during their first Games. Whenever it got to be too much for one, the other held them, their bare bodies melding in a different manner.
"I'd rather have you," Peeta deflected, turning to her. "I'd rather have everyone else. Anyone else. Even Haymitch."
A laugh left her before she could think twice. "Wait," she blinked. "How many others are here?" Her husband didn't reply. "Peeta?"
"Tomorrow," he promised. "We can go visit everyone tomorrow, baby. And discuss everything, too. Let's just... Let's just stay here for right now."
Her expression softened. Katniss reached to intertwine their fingers. She stared at them for a couple beats then tilted her chin upwards to look into his eyes. "Stay with me?"
Peeta smiled gently. He swooped down to steal an equally tame kiss. Her lips formed a curve beneath his, pleased that, despite his efforts, she could still feel that underlying flicker of fire. He withdrew, chuckling.
"Always."
THE END.
