Work Text:
The open fields of eleven left their place to the high mountains covered in green of the woods of what used to be his home many decades ago.
A home he had tried to stay away from for many years. He had been haunted by its ghosts, ashamed and too much of a coward to face his sins.
Maybe it was too late to find remedy to his cowardice, but damn if he wouldn’t at least try. He knew deep down that no matter what redemption he might get he would never stop feeling this guilt.
He had tried, it had been decades, he lived a long and good life but that not so little fact sat like a boulder in his heart. Forgetting was a lost cause. It wasn’t a simple matter but one of the biggest mistake of his life. Because of what had happened that fateful day his life had taken a completely different turn from what he had always dreamt of.
When he was a small child he had hoped for a simple life, a happy one married with a girl and having many children. The mines were a monstrous hell but they felt like a far away nightmare. Then they gained that contour of death, they hit him in the face with the harsh reality of his district. There was no more place for childish dreams. Life was grey, dull and he was destined to live and breath underground till the earth would swallow him whole like it did with his father. The mines were his tomb.
But he was strong and willing to find a silver lining to his sealed fate as a miner. Silver as the eyes of the huntress he had met one day in the woods. She was perfect. Exactly who he needed and he was surely what she needed too. He lulled himself in that fantasy so sure of himself not to notice what was under his nose. He may have been, especially at that time, a young man dedicated to provide for the survival of his family but he still dreamt of living in a small Seam house with his Katniss and survive togheter because the two of them could make that gray existence a better one if they remained side by side. Maybe one day they would even have a small bunch of kids as beautiful as their mother.
But she didn’t.
She didn’t dream of a house in the Seam with him nor of small dark haired and silver eyed children roaming in the woods. No, her mind was only wired on the survival of her younger sister. Someone he considered as part of his own family, one he loved as much as Posy. The sister who he ultimately killed.
Oh, what irony. He who had promised to protect her family ended up being the cause of its end.
Then he became a man with no dreams. What was the point of having any if life tore everything apart? It took him years to piece himself back together. It was a long process but he managed.
It was worth it.
Weirdly enough his childhood dream came to life more or less as he had imagined it. A small house, rowdy children, a happy marriage…
But he was a coward. He never went back home to face her. He limited himself to keep tabs on her. Like she did with him. It was sort of a guilty pleasure. They both ignored the fact that the other knew. He wasn’t that unobservant. Or her, for that matter. They lived as far away as possible from the other but with an eye open, looking from a keyhole in secret and regretting immediately after they realized what they were doing. But it never went beyond that. There was to much hurt to do anything concrete but wistful wishing on his part. It seemed nothing would make him move and go there.
And then the call arrived. It was stupid of him not to realize that such a thing could happen. They are just humans, after all. The problem was that it had never occurred to him that she would be the first to go between the two. We all have to go down this road, chance wanted he was one of the lasts.
Which is a weird thing to believe in because she was always the one one step away from death.
Maybe because of all the many times she somehow survived that he may have had believed her immortal. Alas she wasn’t. Nor even the time to close the call he grabbed a change of clothes, a wad of money and an old rucksack that he boarded the first train to twelve.
Seven hours later he reached his destination. The train speakers informed the passengers that the next stop was district twelve, home of the biggest farmaceutical industry in the country. A small group of people joined him in front of the door waiting to get off the train.
They were all exhausted by the long journey. Gale hadn’t closed his eyes for the entire ride, the nerves had kept him awake. Soon he would have had to face the district and all the bad and good memories associated to it. He didn’t want to be crushed by the past after all the hard work he had put in moving on but he had a very important mission to accomplish. Ask forgiveness before it was too late. Just ask, it wasn’t guaranteed to actually receive it. But he would have been satisfied with just this tentative, he didn’t need another regret in his life( who was he kidding? He would always regret not arriving sooner).
And then the doors opened to reveal district twelve new train station, modern but simple like everything else in the district. A small crowd of people was waiting for the passengers to get off so they could get on board. There were faces he didn’t recognize, complete strangers. There was a time he could have told anyone who they were and from which family they came by just seeing them. Now they were perfect strangers, just a few of them showed the typical traits of an old district twelve inhabitant. It was a good thing, a sign of the progress in these last decades but it left a sour taste in his mouth. Home didn’t fell the same and that wasn’t the only reason why. Going out the station and entering the now wide and long roads of the city he saw how much things had changed.
The place looked so startlingly different from his memory. Long gone was the seam or the merchant side of town. Everything seemed bigger and newer but still smaller and modest compared to some of the cities he had visited. There was a buzz of life coming from every corner. People coming and going in all directions, busy with their lives and worries. But one of the most starkly differences was the veil of peace that reigned over the city. He could no longer smell the fear or feel the atrocious after taste of death in his throat.
Time had definitely moved on leaving him behind in his memories, stuck in a small Seam house. He had been afraid of confronting the past, that arriving in twelve would have caused those scars to reopen and bleed but he couldn’t reconigze his home town. All he felt was a feeling of detachment from those new buildings and roads.
The memory no longer corrisponded to the reality. He saw no ghosts, only the living.
Relief sweeps over him. He had kept in his heart the memory of his home frozen in the moment before the first bomb went off. He had never wanted to let go of that young man and that young woman, so scared to see a difference he ignored every mention of his birthplace. When in reality coming back wasn’t as painful as he had thought, just a bit of nostalgia and a sense of weirdness because memory and reality had become separate things. Just like an old wound, it stayed there marring his body for ever but that had stopped hurting.
The roads became prettier and more colorful the closer he got to what, according to the street signs, was the city square where the heart of the community resided.
It was a vaste space, open and well illuminated by a series of lampposts along the edge. It was simple but beautiful with colorful flower bushes and fruit trees. A fountain stood in the center surrounded by a few wooden benches. And front of all stood the grand city hall but it wasn’t a cold stone building like in the past, it was just a nice yellow one with the stendards of his nation attached to the walls. It wasn’t imposing or intimidating at all.
The square felt qaint, nice and simple, the perfect place for a family to spend a enjoyable afternoon shopping in one of the stores that lined it, a far cry from the daunting image of his childhood.
Only one thing hadn’t changed quite as much. On the left side of the square, not quite in the central spot stood the bakery. It was in the same exact place as before, just a tad bit bigger and nicer. There, displayed in plain sight, were the beautiful Mellark’s cakes, the forbidden sweets of his childhood too expensive for the meager salary of a miner. Now he could buy not one but ten of those cakes and still be fine economically. It felt absurd, a dream.
He stood there a few feet away like stunned by the sight of that shop, he was just a step closer to where he needed to go but his body wasn’t willing to move. All of his courage had left him stranded there in that square.
Lost in his thoughts, frozen and unable to think, he hadn’t noticed a little girl running towards him. She hadn’t probably noticed him too so focused on running as fast as she could in a game of tag with other children that she bumped into him by complete accident.
‘Oh’ she gasped ‘I am sorry, sir’ and like nothing had happened started running away with no care in the world.
Gale was too shocked to react. That little girl… she couldn’t have been older than nine years old.
She reminded him of Prim with her blond braids and cerulean eyes. So innocent, so young to die in a war. A flash of her, Prim, running towards her death passed through his mind. How he wished he could have grabbed her by the tail of her shirt and hold her close to protect her.
He couldn’t stomach being here. Gone was the courage that had brought him so far, gone was the iddyliac peace of this town now full of painful reminders of a past long gone. He had to run, go to his apartment and hide like he always did.
Coward.
But it was impossible to stop staring at that little ghost. Her little shrills of joy, her smile, the way she walked they were exactly like her.
Little things he had buried deep in his mind surfaced with the strength of a tidal wave.
She was there at the front of the old bakery playing some game with the other children. The young girl turned her head towards him staring at him, piercing his soul with those blue eyes. She must have noticed him observing her trying to distinguish the ghost from the real girl.
She had a question clearly written on her eyes, a small frown on her face, not longer distracted by the childish games. What do you need, sir? Do you need help? Who are you seeing? Do I know you? Those were the thoughts that seemed to have crossed her eyes.
“Children!” a male voice interupped their little stare off “come inside!”.
Peeta…
A man in his late thirties, perhaps in his early forties was calling from the back door of the bakery. A white apron thrown over his well defined shoulder. Ash blond curls and a stocky figure.
How many more ghosts?
The children had been waiting outside just to be called in, surely sweet delicacies awaited them inside so when they heard the voice of the older baker raced each other to who entered first. The man was laughing at the actics of the youngers when he noticed how distracted was the oldest. He searched for the reason and soon found it in Gale. A small flicker of recognition passed through his eyes but Gale, before the other man could act on it, tucked himself tighter in his brown coat and walked away.
He couldn’t do it. He was no ready, not even when there was no time at all. He walked faster, he did not know where to… maybe the station, the fastest way out of this impossible situation. He had made barely a few meters from the bakery that an oldery woman’s voice called his name.
Gale turned back surprised. A few doors down a woman was waving at him. She was short, wearing a bright red skirt and pink mittens, a chearful carding. A weird but nice combination. Her white hair was up in a loose chignon, a friendly smile adorned her face. She looked vaguely familiar, in the sense that he might have seen her somewhere passing through the streets of old twelve, perhaps shared a class or two. She looked his age after all.
“She said you were coming” the familiar looking woman started talking to him while approaching “Nobody believed it, but she was adamant, you know. Stubborn as always, she said you would come and so you did”.
Up closer there was no mistaking her for no one else but Delly Cartwright.
“She is waiting for you” she continued impertubed by his lack of response.
He felt his throat dry, words trapped in there. This was it. He could no longer go away.
“Where?” Gale manged to spit out his mouth.
“You know where”
No more dounting words could have been spoken, the implication of it was enourmous.
He was doing it, he turned away to go where he was awaited when Delly spoke again.
“Have you been to the bakery yet?”
“No”
“You should, Ray is there right now”
When she saw his clear hesitancy at the topic she added amused.
“He doesn’t bite. At least, not anymore. Lost that habit when he was around six”.
“Maybe later” Gale answered. Now that he knew for certain he was getting angsty to get to his final destination. He should have known he had to go there, it was weird but fitting. What better place to see each other again after a lifetime? For old time’sake, right?
“That’s ok” she agreed “Would you like me to go with you?”
“No, thanks. I am not so old that I forgot”.
Said their goodbyes, he went on. The town may have changed in those last decades but he could still tell which direction was the right one. It called for him in his bones, a primal instinct to go home.
Soon the nice looking streets left space to dusty country roads and then to an immense flower field.
And just beyond it, the woods.
He knew walking on that ground was walking on a graveyard. The final resting place of a long gone era, the symbol of a tragedy he was present for. It was daunting to think he could have been buried there along his family. The old rage briefly surged back at the thought of all those innocent lives lost at the wimp of a dictator. What they had left was beautifully sad. Life regrow in what used to be a land of ashes and tears.
The woods had barely changed in seventy years. He could see it immediately after he had set his foot on an old trail. The smells, the sounds, the air, the rays of lights… Passing through the thick branches of the trees bought him back to those days passed in these same woods hunting to survive. If he closed his eyes, he could have sworn he could feel Katniss’presence just in front of him with her bow in hand ready to shoot her next prey. It was eery, like the echo of that girl he once knew was walking by his side. The woods had maintained preserved in time, like an insect trapped in amber, the image of his best friend as he liked to remember.
The woods were alive, vibrating in syncrony with the lives of the animals and plants that inhabited the place.
As he walked he recognized the exact spots were he had once put a trap or that place where he had tripped that one time or which tree he had found Katniss in for the first time.
At the end of the old path there was his and Katniss’old meeting spot, that rock were they met and ate and chatted for once able to pretend the shackles of the Capitol couldn’t trap them in the sacred space of the woods.
She was there, exactly like every other time, sitting comfortably and facing forward. She didn’t need to turn around to feel his presence.
She was good like that.
“Catnip” Gale murmured.
“Gale” she answered turning uround.
The years had been kind to her. Her white hair was tided in a loose braid, though different from the one that became synonymous with her. Her face was adorned by wrinkles that clearly were the testimony of many laughs and good days. It made him happy to know she had a better and long life.
“What, Gale? Are you really surprised that I got old? I am not seventeen anymore”
“No, I knew. After all we haven’t seen each other in seventy years”
The last time they did in fact see each other was that fateful day before the execution that didn’t go quite as planned by Coin.
“Yeah, it has been that long”
She looked away transported by some old memory, perhaps the same one as him.
“I missed my hunting partner”
“So did I”
Silence stretched for a while. He didn’t know what to say or do,what was permitted or not. He didn’t know her anymore, there were decades between them, years where they changed and became different people. Not matter how much he kept track of her she had become a stranger to him.
“I forgave you” she added in a whisper.
Gale felt a sort of relief cursing through him, the peace of finally knowing that at least she had forgiven him. But he had still many other things to beg mercy for.
“I am sorry, I should have come sooner”
“No, no. It’s ok”
“No, I should have. I have been terrible. It feels so late to come now to you. I should have come at least to the funeral”
She suddenly interrupted him.
“No, you shouldn’t have. I would have screamed at you. I was furious at the world and I hadn’t forgiven you yet. It was old age that made me see things differently”. Katniss explained in a calm voice but her reassurance seemed to fall on deaf ears.
“I am still sorry, I should have come sooner” he sounded like a broken record, ashemed of himself at his lack of action.
She had slipped away like sand in a hourglass. Slowly but steadily, inevitably. He would always hurt by her absence, by her distance. With the years it had turned in a dull ache at the bottom of his heart. Eternally present but just an echo of what it was once. They both had made their choices and their lives went in two separate directions.
Who could have thought that? Once they were so inseparable that the concept of living apart was unthinkable. Everyone thought they were destined to be toghter, it was considered a given fact in the Seam. Two similar stories, two similar characters. A match made in heaven.
History showed them a different outcome.
“Come now, it’s fine. Sit here near me” Katniss patted the free spot on her rock inviting him to join her
Gale lowered himself slowly. It mirrored their usual positions. A touch of familiarity, to took up exactly where they had left off.
“Look what I brought” Katniss said while extracting a loaf of white bread from her satchel. Another image of that last fateful day when his world stopped to make sense.
Back then it had costed him two squirrels to get such a delicacy and only because the old baker that day must had felt generous.
“How much did it cost?” He asked jokingly.
“Just a kiss” she answered like it was some sort of state secret.
Silence fell once again.
“Did you have a good life?” Katniss inquired.
“Yeah, I did. I was happy”
“That’s good. Tell me more”
So he did tell her everything from the bad to the good, the time he fell in love, when he hold his son in the arms for the first time, to all his accomplishments and how now he enjoyed a simple life as a retired old man in the countryside of district two.
The old friendship sparkled back to life. They had started to talk like not a single day had passed from back when they used to come here in their youth. It felt like something they had done since the beginning of time. The Katniss and Gale of that last day when he said goodbye were just pale imitations of who they truly were.
The cool breeze of the early hours of an autumn day left space for the calm stillness of the air of a late morning. It was such a beautiful day, the sky was devoid of any cloud, just endless blue. So perfect.
As the time passed unnoticed by the two, they talked of the most inane of things. Silly anedoctes and happy memories filled the blanks left by the distance. Where it was one a void it was now filled by the joy of getting acquainted one last time with your best friend.
It was a very nice day.
Gale felt he could be kind towards his younger self. He had received forgiveness and finally he could accept. All he had left to do was to live in this moment of calmness with his oldest and dearest friend, unperturbed by the shadows of the past.
He had been just a child swept in a war bigger than him. A child and not a soldier, but dressed up as one. They had given him a way to channel all that rage he had accumulated since the day he started to see how the world turned. They led him, manipulated like a puppet. And when all was done, he had been left with the guilt of what he had built.
As the sun reached its summit, their talk was interrupted by the sound of steps. Thankfully his earing, which wasn’t good as it was once, was still the one of a proficient hunter.
Surprised by the disturbance, Gale turned his head towards the noise and noted a woman who was the spitting image of what Katniss must have looked like in her forties. There was no doubt she was her daughter, her portement was identical to her mother’s, the daughter Katniss was just telling him used to jump on the mud ponds and always returned home with grass strains on her trousers. The only startling difference were her deep blue eyes, the same exact shade aa her father’s.
“Mom, is everything alright?” the woman questioned her mother in a slightly worried tone.
“Of course, dear” she said, then waiving her hand around started presenting them “Dani this is Gale, an old friend of mine. Gale, this is Dandelion, my daughter”
“ I have heard a lot about you” Dani said adjusting the bow better on her shoulder.
“Good haul” Gale commented seeing her dead preys attached to her belt. Dead by an arrow on their neck.
“She is an excellent hunter” her mother added proudly. Gale could see all the love she held for her precious child in her eyes.
“No I am not. That would be my brother” Dani tried to refuse the compliment like it was an old argument she never seemed to win.
“You both are. He just likes it more” Katniss explained “I tought them, you know. It is a useful skill, and you never know when it may turn useful”
Being a mother looked good on Katniss. She was a natural, something he had always known. It was impossible not to, all he needed was to witness the love she had showed Prim, the way she took care of her, dedicated every aspect of her life to her little sister’s survival.
Everything went okay in the end, they lived, cried, laughed, experienced what their parents and many more couldn’t.
A simple good life, filled with tender love. They got their happy ending, definitely not what that lost child imagined in his small bed in the Seam but a different story, a better one. Two very different happy endings instead of one, but nonetheless beautiful.
It was more than okay. Gale could finally be at peace with himself, that lost child had returned home.