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The Archer And The Artist

Part two of the Everlark/Lady and the Tramp crossover for the Everlarkian Archives!

Chapter 2: Ars Gratia Artis

Aunt Sarah approved the walk with Madge. Mostly, Katniss suspected, because Madge looked so perfectly ladylike from the top of her flaxen head to the toes of her buttoned boots that Aunt Sarah hoped she'd be a good example. They walked off arm in arm, and Madge waited until they turned the corner before saying a word. "So why are we going to the park?" she asked, grinning impishly. "Don't tell me you've finally noticed that there are boys there."

The park was, as everyone under a certain age knew, where both boys and girls went to talk to each other without parents watching every minute. Girls always went with at least one friend, of course, for propriety, because apparently most parents believed that flirting didn't happen in groups.

It did, of course. And if you happened to have an understanding friend who wouldn't tell tales, more serious flirting could be done while she moved away and pretended not to hear. It was one of the reasons Madge and Katniss walked together so often, since Madge dearly loved to flirt and Katniss never minded being used as a screen. She usually brought a book to read. But she wasn't usually the one to suggest a walk.

She blushed, but if she couldn't tell Madge she couldn't tell anyone. "I may have noticed that a boy is going to be there."

"Oooh!" Madge squeezed her arm, beaming. "Who? Do I know him? I won't tell a soul, I swear, you know I can keep secrets."

"You don't know him, and you'll need to. He's.... unsuitable."

Madge's eyes went round. "How unsuitable?"

Katniss told her. About how she'd run away from Aunt Sarah, about Peeta finding and rescuing her, about how well he drew and how blue his eyes were. It came out in awkward half-sentences and hot blushes, but Madge seemed to understand. "Oh, my," she said when Katniss had finished. "Very unsuitable... but so romantic! And he's going to be there today?" She squeezed Katniss's arm again. "I'll have to commission a portrait or two. I really would like to have a couple of little sketches of myself - "

"To give to your admirers."

"Not all of them, only one or two. The best ones." Madge giggled. "And if I do that, we'll have to sit right there with him and you'll have time to talk. I promise to pretend not to hear a thing."

"Thank you." Katniss squeezed back. "I do like him. You'll understand when you see him."

"I will, I'm sure." Madge was never greedy in her flirting. She liked boys, and they liked her, but she would never so much as flutter her lashes at a boy another girl really liked, and Katniss knew she was as willing to be a screening friend as to use one. "Now let's hurry, I'm dying to meet this handsome artist!"

Peeta had provided himself with a stool and set himself up in one of the more romantic corners, where a park bench was half screened by a willow tree on one side and flanked by flowers on the other. He was already working on a portrait when they found him - no-one Katniss knew, but from the way the girl was clutching the boy's arm and they both kept smiling and looking down at a ring on her left hand, they were newly engaged and happy about it.

When they left, Katniss hesitated. "Maybe - "

"No maybes, come on." Madge grinned and dragged her over. Peeta looked up and smiled, and then his smile warmed into something far more personal when he saw Katniss. From her heartfelt sigh, Madge had noticed. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand to him. "I'm Madge Undersee, Katniss's best friend. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other."

Peeta took her hand and shook it politely, looking bewildered. "We will?"

"Of course. She always helps me out when I want to see a boy, so of course I'll do it for her too." Madge plumped down on the bench, arranging her skirts and posing prettily with her parasol over her shoulder. "There. I'll need at least two or three nice, flattering sketches of me. Let me know when you need me to change my pose for the next one, and there's no hurry. Talk amongst yourselves."

Katniss blushed, but she couldn't help laughing. "You know, I'm usually much more diplomatic when I help you talk to someone!"

Madge dimpled adorably at her. "I know, but I didn't want to give you a chance to turn shy and run off. All right, I'm pretending not to listen now."

Peeta looked a little embarrassed too, but he chuckled as he picked up his charcoal. "So... you told her why you were coming here?"

"I had to. Anyway, she won't tell anyone." There was a convenient tree-root quite close to Peeta's stool and Katniss sat down on it, leaning forward a little so she could see. She hadn't had a chance to watch him drawing before, and it was fascinating. He never seemed to hesitate, every line flowing into the next with hardly a pause. "Like she said, I always help her when she wants to see someone."

Peeta glanced sidelong at her. "And she helps you?" he asked tentatively.

Katniss blushed and shook her head. "This is the first time I've asked," she admitted.

"Oh." He looked down at his paper, but Katniss could see the little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. She was glad he was pleased. "So... how's Primrose?"

They couldn't talk about anything private, not with Madge right there, but they found plenty to talk about anyway. About Primrose, about books - Peeta loved to read when he got the chance - about flowers and drawing and anything that came into their heads. Katniss learned that his favourite colour was orange, that he had an old copy of Treasure Island that he reread whenever he had nothing else, that he'd left Scamp with Delly for the first time today and that his favourite food was new bread warm from the oven. Katniss told him how much she liked grass-green, that her favourite books were all about travel, that she thought Prim was close to learning to roll over and that her favourite food was sweet apples... or perhaps roast chicken, she could never decide between the two.

When Peeta had done three very pretty sketches of Madge he stopped and rubbed his hand and Katniss stood up, pressing her hands to her stiff back. "We should go," she said reluctantly. "I can't just keep you talking all day when you have work to do."

"I do need to at least try for a few more," he admitted, smiling wistfully up at her. "And it wouldn't do for us to walk together here, much as I'd like to."

"That's true - there's always someone who'd tattle, and Katniss's Aunt Sarah is *so* strict." Madge stood up, smoothing her skirts down. "Thank you for the drawings, they're lovely." She dropped the coins into Peeta's hand, smiling at him. "I may need more, if you might happen to be here later in the week - I would so like one of Katniss and I together, and perhaps one each for our parents too."

Peeta grinned at her. "Thank you, Miss Undersee. I think that if, say, Friday is fine, I'll try this spot again... in the afternoon, perhaps?"

"Afternoon would be perfect." Madge took Katniss's arm again. "There... now let's go for a walk. I'm quite stiff after sitting for so long!"

"Me too." Katniss smiled at Peeta again. "I'll see you," she said softly, and as they passed him his hand came up to clasp hers just for a moment. The touch made her pulse race, fleeting as it was.

She thought again - as she had many times over the last two days - about what Mama had told her about meeting Papa. "He was standing on the corner," Mama always said, her pretty face softening with the sweetness of the memory. "I heard him before I saw him... he was singing. Such a beautiful song... I stopped to listen, even though my friends didn't want to. And when he finished, he looked at me and I looked at him and truly, I think we knew even then, before we'd said a word to each other. Sometimes you do just know."

Katniss had always been skeptical about that, about the whole idea of Love At First Sight. Now... now she thought maybe Mama had a point. Peeta was a little like Papa, that way. Much handsomer - Papa was very ordinary-looking until he smiled - but every movement, every expression told of kindness and gentleness too. Of someone you could trust with anything.

"I like him," Madge said, once they'd rounded the willow tree and he was out of sight and hearing. "I really do! He's nice, and he's certainly talented, and he thinks you're adorable when you scowl."

Katniss blinked. "He never said that!"

"He didn't have to. You looked positively murderous when you were talking about what Mister Abernathy said about your reading habits and he was smiling at you. I've never seen a boy smile in the face of that expression before. Usually they flee, or at least look nervous." Madge grinned. "Even I get a little nervous when you look like that."

"You do not." Katniss nudged her shoulder against Madge's arm.

"I do! I worry that you're going to finally snap and murder someone and I'll have to help you hide the body." Madge shook her head sadly. "And don't tell me that that won't ruin my dress, because it will. Bloodstains, you know. And mud from burying it."

Katniss laughed. She loved Madge's often ghoulish sense of humour. "Well, then, I won't ask you to bury it. We'll drop it in the river instead."

"Well, I suppose that's a little better." Madge smiled, twirling her parasol on her shoulder. "Oh, let's go have tea at that little place with the roses on the cups." Katniss wrinkled her nose. "Oh, I know it's ridiculously frilly, but I like their shortbread. Then on the way back we can wander by and see if Peeta's still there."

Subjecting herself to The Rose Garden - shortbread or no shortbread - merely for the chance to walk past Peeta again and perhaps say hello was ridiculous and a terrible bargain. Katniss agreed without a moment's hesitation.

As usual, Madge lingered over her tea and cookies, but at last they were on their way again. Katniss was pretending very hard - to herself as well as to Madge - that she didn't care and that they were just on their way home. She wasn't sure it was working.

At first when she saw him, she thought he was drawing another portrait - but no, he was standing, his hands empty, talking to two girls whose red hair blazed against the green willow tree. Katniss vaguely recognised one, a thin fox-faced girl with her orange-red hair pinned in a tight knot. She'd seen her working in a shop somewhere - the bookshop, that was it. One of Katniss's favourites, that's why she remembered. The other girl had a tray of artificial flowers that she must have been selling. Her hair, darker red than the foxy girl's, was braided and twisted around her head like a crown, and she was smiling at Peeta as if they were close.

Katniss stopped, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. Which was ridiculous. She knew Peeta knew other girls - he'd introduced her to Delly just the other day, and Delly hadn't been the only girl living in that house, just the only one home. Maybe these were the others.

Madge stopped when she did, her hand resting on Katniss's arm gently. "I'm sure it's just..." she began, then trailed off as Peeta exclaimed in delight - the tone was clear, even if they couldn't hear the words - and hugged the braid-crowned girl, kissing her cheek affectionately.

Mama had been wrong. Sometimes you didn't just know. Sometimes you were just wrong.

Katniss turned away, striking out across the grass for another path. She moved too fast for Madge, whose dainty boots weren't meant for muddy grass. She had to run around by the path, heels tapping on stone. "Katniss, wait!"

Katniss didn't look around. She especially didn't look around when she heard Peeta's voice call her name too. She didn't look around when Madge caught up with her. She didn't look around all the way home.

*

Katniss stayed in the house the day after that, and the day after that. She practiced the piano, and finished her sampler. She did as Aunt Sarah told her without argument, and if she did it with a set face and suspiciously reddened eyes, Aunt Sarah didn't seem to notice.

It was stupid to be so hurt, she knew that. She'd only spent, what, a few hours with Peeta? They'd talked a little, he'd drawn her and drawn Prim, she'd sung and fed his puppy... what did any of that really mean? Even the kisses... the first had been a moment's impulse, because he was happy that she thought his drawings were good. She'd all but begged for the second, the memory making her squirm now. He had never even hinted that it meant more than it had been. He'd certainly never said there was no other girl he liked. So feeling so betrayed and hurt was stupid.

That didn't make it go away.

She wouldn't have gone out on the next day, either, the day that Mama and Papa would be home if nothing delayed them, but Aunt Sarah had fussed herself into a headache and ordered Katniss to take Primrose out into the garden where her squeals and cries wouldn't make the headache worse. Prim, at least, seemed to know something was wrong. She had been tense and fractious since yesterday, though Katniss wasn't sure if it was because Mama and Papa were coming home or because Katniss herself was upset.

They'd been in the garden for less than ten minutes when Katniss heard the whisper from the garden wall. "Katniss!"

She ignored it. She was holding Prim up so she was 'walking' on the seat of the garden bench, little fat feet patting the smooth wood happily, and the innocent excitement on Prim's face helped a bit.

"Katniss, please." The edge of desperation in Peeta's voice made her eyes sting with tears. "Please don't be angry."

Katniss turned away from the wall, settling Prim in her lap.

"Katniss, come on. At least listen to me." She heard him drop onto the grass, moving closer.

"I can't imagine why you'd need me to listen to you," Katniss said coldly, not looking at him. If she did, she was afraid that she'd cry... or forgive him, because clearly those beautiful blue eyes made her into an idiot. "You don't seem to have any shortage of girls willing to listen to you."

He sighed. "I thought that was it... Katniss, I've known Annie and Finch for years. We ran away from an orphanage together."

His voice seemed to have as terrible an effect on her common sense as his eyes. Katniss swallowed the lump in her throat and ignored it. "I'm sure you don't need to explain anything to me. And if Aunt Sarah catches you in our garden, she'll think you're trying to steal something and call a constable."

"I don't care!" He was closer than she'd thought, moving into her line of sight no matter how she tried to avoid him. "Katniss, I know we haven't known each other for long, but I've never felt anything like this. I thought you felt it too."

Katniss bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She'd thought so, too. On her lap, Prim started to whimper unhappily. "I can't imagine why." She kept her voice cold, not wanting him to know how much she wanted to cry. "I think you should leave."

"But it's not what you think!" Peeta's voice was pleading. "Annie isn't... she's like a sister to me. She's engaged, Katniss, to a sailor. A good man. She had her first letter from him in weeks the other day, that's why we were happy, she'd been worrying..."

Katniss had to swallow a couple more times to keep her voice level. "That's very nice," she said remotely. He didn't say anything about the other one, she couldn't help but notice. And he had hurt her, and she was still too upset to care what his excuse was. "I'm sure I'm very happy for her."

Peeta dropped to his knees beside her, looking up at her, and the anguish in his face made her ache. Despite all her efforts, her eyes filled with tears. "Katniss, please. I think I fell in love with you the first time I heard you sing, or maybe when you told me about the kitten... I'm sorry I hurt you. Please, please let me make it up to you, do something, anything..."

Katniss opened her mouth to say... something, she wasn't sure what... but the only thing that came out was a sob. Tears started rolling down her cheeks and she hid her face against Prim's soft curls. "Just go away," she whispered. If he was telling her the truth, he hadn't done anything that should hurt her. But she'd been hurt anyway, and she had no way of knowing if it was true. That she desperately wanted it to be true only made it harder to believe. "Please."

Calloused fingers brushed her hand, then drew away. "All right," he said, and there was a break in his voice too. "If that's what you want."

She heard him move away, heard the scrape of a boot on the wall, but she didn't look up. Only when Prim started to cry, upset by Katniss's sobbing, was she able to force the tears back. She was not going to let anything upset Prim. Nothing. Not ever. Any boys who charmed her with sweet smiles and blushes and then broke her heart would get an arrow right through them.

Then she heard the growl.

A dog, an unfamiliar one, was walking around the corner of the house with a strange, shambling gait. It was big - some kind of mastiff, maybe - with its big head held low, drooling steadily. And it was growling.

Katniss knew what those signs meant. Hydrophobia, it had to be - and the dog was between her and the house. She had nowhere to run, and with Prim in her arms she couldn't climb one of the trees or onto the wall. The dog had seen them now, and when she moved behind the bench it growled louder. Panic clutched at Katniss, worse than she'd ever felt, and she screamed without meaning to. "Peeta! PEETA!"

It was stupid, he was gone, she'd sent him away... she looked around for something, anything, she could use as a weapon. Hydrophobia was fatal. She could not let the dog bite either of them... but especially not Prim. Not Prim.

There was a loose stone on the edge of one of the flowerbeds, but it was a distance away. Tools and her bow and arrows were in the shed, but that was well to her left and closer to the dog. She couldn't push Prim up into the apple tree - without any way to hold her in place, she would fall and be hurt. And it wasn't possible to pull herself up in the tree with only one hand, she'd tried before.

Katniss swallowed hard, watching the dog as it moved slowly closer. It didn't seem to be moving very fast, and she hoped that it had been sick for long enough that it was slow and weak. If it had, she might have a chance...

She was afraid to leave the cover of the bench, but the dog was so big that it wasn't much protection. It could easily go right over. She needed a weapon. So she started to inch towards the little shed, eyes fixed on the dog, her body turned sideways so that Prim was shielded. Whatever happened to her, it was not going to hurt Prim.

The dog was watching her, and when she stepped out from behind the bench it seemed to speed up. Oh, God...

"Katniss, what..." Peeta was on top of the wall, looking down, and it only took him a second to see the dog. "Hell," he swore, and then he yanked off his coat and dropped it behind the wall - Katniss heard a tiny yelp, but a little bump was safer for Scamp than a rabid dog.

The dog heard the yelp too and looked towards it, cocking its head awkwardly to look up at Peeta. "I'll try to get its attention," he said, sliding slowly off the wall and putting himself into danger. "Draw it away. As soon as it's distracted, you need to run."

"It's between us and the house." Katniss was shaking, utterly terrified, but she could still think. "I need to get to the shed. There are tools, and my bow - we could fight it off."

"Katniss, a dog that size is dangerous even if it isn't rabid, which I'm pretty sure it is." Peeta glanced over at the shed. "How sturdy is it? Will the roof hold you?"

Katniss looked. "I think so. But - "

"You need to get Prim up there. Both of you up there." Peeta shrugged off his satchel and was holding it in front of him like a shield while he moved away from Katniss and the shed, putting himself closer to the dog. "I can run and climb a lot better than you can. I'll be fine."

"It slopes too much. If I put Prim up there, she'll slide off, and I can't climb holding her!" The shed was only just large enough to hold a few garden tools and the bows and arrows Papa and Katniss used for practice, and the roof sloped steeply so snow would slide off in winter. She couldn't put Prim up there. But if she could reach it she could put Prim inside! There wasn't room for a grown person, even one as small as Katniss, without pulling everything else out. They had no time for that. But she could shove Prim in and get her bow in only a moment. "I can put Prim inside. Peeta, don't let it bite you!"

He smiled at her, and though his face was pale his smile was steady. "I won't. We'll be all right." The dog lunged at him then, growling, and Peeta jumped behind a tree. "But hurry!"

Katniss hiked up her skirts and ran. She didn't look around when she heard the dog snarl again. She didn't look around when she heard a stifled cry from Peeta, though she wanted to. She got to the shed, fumbling the latch open. Ignoring Prim's wails, she shoved the baby in on top of the hosepipe - safe enough, no edges there - and snatched at her bow. Something sliced into her arm, but she hardly noticed. Didn't matter. She had her bow. The first quiver she grabbed had only blunt arrows. She threw it behind her and grabbed the other, the one for trick shots or hunting, with the sharp points. She slammed the door on Prim and swung around to see what had happened to Peeta. If he'd been bitten...

He was running towards her, his face white, but it was his satchel that the dog was savaging. He really had used it as a shield. Even as she looked, though, the dog dropped it and turned to chase Peeta. "On the roof!" he shouted. "I'll help you up!"

Katniss had never shot a live creature in her life. It was moving so fast - he was right, they should get up on the roof and then she could shoot it. "All right!" Her hand felt wet. She looked down at it, and felt herself sway a little. That was... quite a lot of blood. The cut that hadn't hurt before suddenly burned.

Then Peeta reached the shed and swung her around to face it. He dropped to his knees, bracing himself on the wall. "On my shoulders, quick!"

No time for vapours over blood. Katniss scrambled up onto his shoulders and then the roof. The dog was only seconds away. "Peeta, come on!"

"I can't, there's not enough room!" He glanced up at her, smiling shakily. "I'll try for the wall."

He wasn't going to make it. There was no chance. He could have run for the wall before, but he'd come for her first. He'd risked one of the most horrible deaths there was to save her. Katniss shook her head and dropped to one knee, reaching for an arrow.

The first missed - her bleeding arm was weaker than usual. The dog was fifteen feet away. She was already drawing again. That arrow clipped the dog's flank, making it yelp and turn, losing momentum. Ten feet. The third arrow struck it in the ribs, punching through, and the dog went down. Katniss shot it twice in the throat to be sure, and then her hands were shaking so much that she dropped the bow. It was barely five feet from Peeta. Her own height between him and certain, horrible death. "P-Peeta?"

"I'm here. I'm okay." He pushed himself slowly away from the wall, turning to look up at her. "Katniss, you're bleeding! It didn't - "

"No, I cut myself on something." She looked at her arm, then looked away again. She couldn't help it, she always got dizzy looking at someone bleeding. And it just kept on doing it!

He held up his hands to her. "Jump. I'll catch you."

She wasn't sure she could climb down anyway, so she stepped off the roof. He did catch her, broad hands grasping her waist and lowering her very gently to the grass. "Are you okay?" he whispered, and she could feel him shaking. "I thought... God, when I looked over the wall and saw it coming towards you and Prim..." Trembling hands moved over her upper arms and her shoulders and cupped her face. "I know you hate me, but - "

"I don't hate you." Katniss was shaking as hard as he was. "I w-was just... I thought I'd just been stupid, that you didn't feel the same way I did, but you faced a rabid dog for me, you could have died... Peeta, don't ever do that again!"

He laughed shakily and leaned down to kiss her, and blood and pain or no, Katniss clung to him. How could she have been stupid enough to doubt him? She never would again.

"Annie is the best friend I have, but that's all - " he started, when his lips finally drew away from hers.

"I know." Katniss kissed him - it was the first time she'd been the one to kiss him, and she liked it. Aunt Sarah was right, she was a hussy... but she could certainly see why Madge liked being one so much, if kissing always felt like this. "It doesn't matter."

"Good." He kissed her back, then drew away as fresh wails sounded from the shed. "I'll get Prim. She must be scared half to death."

"Thank you." Katniss found herself unsteady on her feet when he let her go, and not only because of his kisses. There was blood on her arm, on her skirt, on the shed roof, on the bow... no, she wasn't just being squeamish. That was quite a lot of blood, when you put it all together. "Then... I think I'll need help getting to the house. I really don't like blood, and there's so much."

"I know. You need to get it tied up right away." Cradling the still-howling Prim in one arm, he slid the other around her waist. "All right. Back to the house. I guess I get to meet the dragon."

"Oh, dear." Katniss wasn't sure there was any amount of heroism that would endear a nasty common poor person to Aunt Sarah.

They were only halfway across the garden and Katniss was getting dizzier by the minute when the door flew open. Aunt Sarah must have been woken by the commotion - and being Aunt Sarah, had gotten fully dressed before so much as looking out the window. "Katniss! What in the world... unhand her! Unhand her, you vile, vicious - "

Katniss blinked. She was covered in blood and Prim was crying and... now that she thought about it, this did look a little bad. "Aunt Sarah," she said weakly. "It's not... it's not what..." But she made the mistake of trying to move in front of Peeta, to shield him from Aunt Sarah and the umbrella she seemed to have seized as the first weapon to hand, and the extra exertion was too much. Her head was spinning more than ever, and then the grass rose up and closed over her in a dark wave.

*

Katniss woke up slowly. What had... oh. She'd fainted. Swooned away like the heroine of a gothic novel. So that was what it was like. She'd been laid on a sofa, with cushions under her head and her feet, and when she looked her arm had been neatly bandaged. Thank goodness for that.

"And I swear, I thought my heart would stop! Stop there and then! Katniss covered in blood, and that wretched boy tearing Primrose from her arms, and - "

Katniss sat up, her brain clearing instantly. Aunt Sarah! Peeta! Battle stations!

Soft hands rested on her shoulders, and when she looked up she saw a wonderfully familiar face. "Just stay still, my darling," Mama said gently. "You've lost rather a lot of blood, and you've had a terrible shock."

Katniss burst into tears as she was cradled against a comforting shoulder. "Oh, Mama, I've never been so scared, ever... but I had to protect Prim! I had to!"

"I know, darling, and we're very proud of you." Mama hugged her tightly. "If we'd only been home a little sooner!"

Over her shoulder, Katniss could see Papa shaking his head, looking baffled. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to kidnap Primrose," he was saying earnestly to a constable in a tall helmet. "We're not wealthy people - well off enough, I suppose, but not rich. What could he have been thinking?"

Katniss froze. Then she gently pushed Mama away and sat up. "Kidnap?"

"Don't worry, miss." The constable had the slightly glazed look of someone who'd been shrieked at by Aunt Sarah for at least ten minutes, but he managed to pull himself together. "The young ruffian is in custody. You're perfectly safe now."

"Kidnap?" Katniss repeated, her voice icy. Weakness not exactly forgotten but unimportant, she wobbled to her feet. "You think Peeta was trying to kidnap Prim?"

"He had already taken her from you when I came out!" Aunt Sarah swelled with fury again. "The poor lamb was hysterical, and you had been attacked, and - "

Papa was frowning. "Peeta? Katniss, do you know the young man?"

"Yes. I do." Katniss took a deep breath. Hysterics wouldn't help. She had to stay calm. "And he wasn't trying to kidnap anyone. He saved us."

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss!" Aunt Sarah snapped. "I know what I saw, and - "

"Shut up." It felt so good to finally say it. "Shut up, you... you stupid old woman! I was there, and Peeta saved us, and if you don't believe me, Papa, Constable, I suggest you go out and look at the rabid mastiff lying behind the shed." Everyone was staring at her in stunned silence. Katniss lifted her chin. "It's dead, and none of us were bitten. Thanks to Peeta."

The constable looked confused, but Papa met Katniss's eyes for a moment and then nodded. "We'll go and look. But if you say there was a dog, Katniss, I know without looking."

When they came back in, the constable was as white as a sheet and Papa, who didn't get that pale, was a faint sickly green. "The dog is there, all right," the constable told Mama. "And stuck full of arrows, of all things. I never saw the like in all my born days."

Mama put her arms around Katniss. "I will never complain about all that target practice ever again," she said, her voice trembling. "I never thought...oh, Katniss!"

"Three very good shots - impressive, with that arm." Papa came to sit on the sofa on Katniss's other side, taking her hand gently in his. "That was your work, I know - but we found a bag that had been chewed to shreds, and that I don't think is yours. It belongs to this Peeta?"

Katniss nodded, her lip trembling again at the memory. "He tried to distract the dog - he was using the bag as a shield, so it wouldn't bite him. He wanted me to, to run to the house, but I couldn't just leave him there to..." She swallowed hard, clasping her hands together in her lap. "So I ran to the shed, and I put Prim inside - it couldn't get her there - and I got my bow. Then P-Peeta pushed me up onto the roof of the shed, but... but he said there wasn't room for him too, and there was no time for him to run away. There would have been, if he hadn't come for me first! He knew it had hydrophobia, he knew, but he tried to s-save me instead of hims-self..."

Papa nodded, patting her clasped hands. "Then I had better go and let the police know there's been a misunderstanding," he said gently. "Katniss, I want you to let Mama put you to bed and take care of you. I will go and help your friend, I promise."

Katniss nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her good hand. He wasn't asking how she'd met Peeta, or why he would want to save her, or anything - that was like him. He might ask later, in private, but he wouldn't make her talk about anything personal in front of strangers. "I will. Please hurry, Papa. Oh, and get his coat from behind the wall - there's a puppy in the pocket, and he'll be frightened all alone, and Peeta will need the coat, and - "

"I will." He kissed her forehead gently. "And I'm very proud of you, my brave girl."

*

Peeta had no idea what was going on.

Yesterday he'd been arrested and dragged away, accused of attacking Katniss and all his attempts at explaining ignored. Then almost as soon as he'd been shoved into a cell, a thin, short man with Katniss's brilliant grey eyes had marched in, demanding his release. The stranger - Mr Everdeen - had then returned Peeta to the boarding-house in a cab. When they arrived he'd handed Peeta his coat, a well-fed puppy, and his mangled but very welcome satchel, and told him to be ready for collection at eleven the next morning. Before Peeta could do more than ask if Katniss was all right (he'd said she was), the man had climbed back into the cab and left.

Delly and Annie had both cried over him. Finch didn't cry, but she'd been disapproving - why on earth would he risk his life for a girl who'd never look at him twice? Oh, she might flirt with him, but it wouldn't go anywhere. Her parents would make sure of that, even if she was fool enough to consider a street artist with hardly a penny to his name seriously.

Peeta ignored her. The way Katniss had kissed him, clung to him - shot a dog in the neck cool as you please, even hurt and bleeding, to save him! She loved him, just like he loved her. Maybe he was an idiot to imagine courting her, marrying her, seeing those beautiful eyes every day for the rest of his life, but he didn't care. She loved him.

When he got into another cab the next morning, at eleven exactly, the thrill of her kisses had had time to fade. He couldn't imagine where her father was taking him. He seemed grateful for what Peeta had done, but imagining he was so grateful that he'd let his daughter marry someone who couldn't even put a roof over her head was pure insanity and Peeta knew it. Even if they weren't only sixteen, which they were.

When he asked where they were going, Mr Everdeen inclined his head. "To see an old friend of mine. You brought your sketches, didn't you?"

Mr Everdeen had asked him to bring his sketches and drawing materials. Had he seen the drawings of Katniss? Three from life, and several more from his very clear memory of her, of the way her smile lit her face, of the way her dark hair curved over her ears, the way she cradled her baby sister as tenderly as any mother... of course he'd seen them, he must have.

When the cab stopped, Peeta was feeling queasy with nerves. When he found himself going up broad white steps and saw the sign ahead of him, he stopped dead. 'Panem School', it said in big letters. Underneath was the motto - 'Ars gratia artis'. Art is its own reward, Finch had said it meant. "I don't understand," Peeta said quietly. "I can't - "

"But I can. Come on." Mr Everdeen led the way, and Peeta followed numbly.

He stayed numb while Mr Everdeen introduced him to a sour-faced man who somehow managed to look scruffy even in a perfectly respectable suit. "Mr Abernathy is Katniss's voice teacher and an old friend. Haymitch, this is Peeta Mellark."

"Hello sir," Peeta managed, his voice cracking only slightly. Mr Abernathy just grunted and nodded.

Mr Abernathy and Mr Everdeen then took Peeta to an intimidatingly grand office where a stout, ordinary-looking man with thinning hair was going through some papers. "Plutarch," Mr Abernathy said, jerking a thumb at Peeta, "here's your eleven-thirty assessment. Remember? Favour for Everdeen?"

"This is Mr Plutarch Heavensbee," Mr Everdeen said softly. "He is the head teacher of Art, here at the Panem school. Give him your sketches."

Shaking and utterly tongue-tied, Peeta meekly handed them over. He had no idea what was going on. The Panem was one of the finest academies of the arts on this side of the country. He'd daydreamed about going, of course, but... he was a runaway of sixteen, making a scanty living selling his work for a few cents at a time. How could he even be here?

Mr Heavensbee flicked through the drawings, making non-committal thoughtful noises. When he'd finished, he gestured towards Mr Abernathy. "Draw a sketch of him."

Peeta did, trying to capture the man's rumpled air, the way his brows twitched and his hands gestured. When he was done, he handed the work over. Mr Heavensbee glanced at it, his eyebrows going up, and then nodded. "Had any previous training?"

Peeta swallowed hard. "No, sir."

"This is all self-taught?"

"Yes, sir."

"Ever used oil paints?"

"No, sir."

Heavensbee gestured to a corner, where an easel stood prepared. "Give them a try. Give me something simple - a flower, say. I want to see what kind of eye for colour you have, don't worry about technique.

Peeta nodded, surreptitiously drying his hands on his pants, and went over to the easel. He fell in love with oil paint even faster than he had with Katniss. The rich colours, the texture of it... he was absorbed, not stopping until a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "That'll do." He looked at the woefully inept painting of a cluster of primroses and nodded. "Well, your technique's lousy," he said pleasantly, "but for someone who just picked up his first brush, this is good. Very good. You were right, Everdeen, he's got real talent. If he can get that kind of likeness in charcoal on cheap paper, he can do it in oil with some practice."

Mr Everdeen nodded. Mr Abernathy seemed to have left while Peeta was wrestling with the paints. "I thought so."

"Good. Well, Peeta Mellark, you have a place at the school if you want it. No tuition fees - we have a couple of patrons who like to sponsor a starving artist now and then. Everdeen's offered to pay for your supplies and so on." Heavens nodded, seemingly pleased. "You want it?"

"Yes. I... it's all I've wanted for a long time." Peeta clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. If this was a dream, pain didn't serve to wake him. "I don't know how good I can be... but I know I can be better than I am, if I had someone to teach me. Trying to figure everything out on my own is... it's not the same."

"No, it isn't. But you've made a good start, better than most." Mr Heavensbee picked up one of the sketches, examining it thoughtfully. "It's rough, but you can make a baby look like a baby, not a small adult or a ball of dough, and many of the classical masters never managed that."

Peeta knew he was blushing, and no force of will could keep him from glancing at Mr Everdeen. He only had one baby in his collection, the one in her sister's arms. "Thank you, sir."

Mr Heavensbee nodded. "Go get your things, then. We have a dormitory for students who travel to study here - you'll get room and board, though you'll need to provide for your other needs yourself. You can move in this afternoon, and start your classes tomorrow."

Peeta blinked. "I... I have a puppy," he blurted out. "I can't abandon him."

Heavensbee waved a hand. "Pets are allowed, unless they make trouble. If it eats anyone else's pets it goes."

"He won't." Peeta swallowed hard, trying to gather his wits. "I... thank you, sir. I don't... I don't know how to thank you enough."

"It's a trade-off," Heavensbee said, still in that pleasant, businesslike way. "We train plenty of rich idiots with marginal talent who want us to cater to their artistic pretensions. Because we do, we can afford to train the real talents who can't pay, as well as the ones who can. Katniss Everdeen happens to be one of our real talents - she could walk into any opera company tomorrow if she'd work harder at languages, and she can learn by ear what she doesn't understand. Thanks to you, we still have her. That's worth something." He pulled a large watch out of his pocket. "And I have a class - Glen, I'll see you another time. Mr Mellark, welcome to the school."

Peeta gathered up his possessions and followed Mr Everdeen out again. The man led him down the steps and into a sheltered corner of the building, then looked down at him with some amusement. "You look as if you took a punch and aren't sure if you're going to go down or not."

"That's... that's how I feel," Peeta said, still clutching his torn satchel with hands he couldn't feel yet. "Only it was more like a train. I... I don't understand why you're doing this, sir. I know I helped Katniss - "

"Katniss is quite insistent that you saved both their lives," Mr Everdeen said seriously. "My girls mean a great deal to me, Mr Mellark."

"But even so... offering to pay for years of training, of..." Peeta shook his head. "You don't owe me that much, nobody would expect... I just don't understand." He looked up at the older man. "I thought you'd be telling me never to go near her again, not sending me to her school. I suppose you're going to tell me to stay away from her, but..."

Mr Everdeen laughed at that, and he looked even more like Katniss then. Like her, he had a beautiful, musical laugh that made his thin face light up. "Oh, well. Most fathers would, but I can hardly complain if Katniss shares her mother's plebeian tastes. Peeta, my father was a coal miner who could barely write his own name, and when I met Ruth I was washing dishes and singing in music halls to put myself through a couple of years of school so I'd have enough learning for a teacher. Ruth's father didn't like it any more than you thought I'd like you, but after she'd threatened to run off and dance on the stage while I sang he agreed to help me get into business so we wouldn't embarrass him." He clapped Peeta on the shoulder in a friendly way. "You're both very young, and maybe it won't come to anything - but you look to me like a man who knows his own mind. It seems to me that it would be just as well for you to have a trade in a few years, and it'll save time and trouble all around if you get started now."

Peeta stared at him and had to swallow hard a couple of times before he could talk. "I... I see, sir. Then... thank you. And you're not mistaken," he added, blushing all over again. "I mean, I didn't think I'd ever dare suggest such a thing, not to her, but..."

"I understand." Mr Everdeen's smile was reassuring. "Work hard, then... and for what it's worth, though she hasn't said anything to me, I know when my daughter's made up her mind about something. I'm fairly sure you have a chance, if you work at it enough." He shrugged. "And you heard what Plutarch said - she has a better voice even than I did, and she has the training I never could have managed. No matter what my wife's family say about respectable young ladies, I won't stop her from using that voice if that's what she wants. It seems to me that another artist might understand that and not make a fuss about how his wife should stay at home and pay attention to him."

Peeta's heart bounded. The respectable daughter of a respectable businessman might be out of his reach - but this was different. It made sense. Of course a father willing to let his daughter pursue her own art, respectable or not, would want someone for her who would understand, who'd take care of her but not get in her way. "I'd never do that," he said quietly. "I've heard her sing, sir. The birds themselves fall quiet to listen. And an artist can draw or paint anywhere she might go. She... she said once she'd like to travel. I'd like it too. Even if I didn't, she's worth anything, any work I have to do to be worthy of her."

"Good." Mr Everdeen nodded and smiled again. "That's about what I thought when I met Ruth, too. I'm sure you'll make Katniss proud. Well, I should let you go and get settled in." He straightened his hat and turned away to glance over his shoulder. "And do come to dinner on Saturday. Six o'clock. Don't be late."

"I will sir. Thank you!" Peeta watched the man go, still clutching his satchel. He'd go home, get his dog and his few possessions - what money he had he could give to Annie and Finch, now that he was going somewhere with meals provided - and then tomorrow...

Tomorrow he started work, and he'd work his fingers to the bone if he had to. He had a girl to be worthy of.

The End

(Note: I know the Rabid Dog Attack is terribly cheesy, but I wanted to hark back to the scary were-tribute mutts in their first Games, with Peeta shoving her to safety and Katniss defending him with her bow. And when you actually come to want one, you realise that there aren't a lot of deadly perils in back yards as a rule.)

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