Song Suggestion: Hozier- "Work Song"

Readers: Thanks so much for going on this journey with me! I can't believe it's done. Some of you have stuck with me since the very beginning, which just blows my mind, since I took so much time off from writing due to expanding my family. To all my loyal readers (and my ghost readers), leave me a review and tell me what you think of the ending!

The Spoils Go to the Victor

She was walking through the hallways, on her way to Coral's room, when a man stepped out of the shadows and placed the sharp tip of a sword to her throat

"Mockingjay," Ace said.

Prim nodded in greeting.

"Finally going to take your vengeance?"

His features were hard, but one edge of his lips lifted.

"The public would never forgive me for killing the Mockingjay. I only came to offer my services."

"And what services will those be?"

"I'm only good for one thing."

"Lux sent you, didn't he?"

Ace showed his distaste. Prim continued her walk, pushing the metal away from her neck. It brushed aside without force. Ace stood still for a moment, before walking after, becoming a giant shadow that hovered behind her.

Prim found the door she looked for. She reached out a hand, and then she hesitated. Coral did not trust her, not like she used to. Prim missed holding her in her arms, but the girl replaced her long ago.

Ace saw her waver.

"Give her time," he said. "My mother married my father when Marvel was about her age. He hated him for a few years before he embraced him."

It was easy to remember Marvel as an enemy. But just like Cato, he was a victim in the end. Circumstance controlled his actions. In a sense, they were kindred spirits, her and Ace. Children who watched their beloved sibling murdered for a game on national tv.

When Prim glanced up, their eyes met. They understood each other in that moment.

"I don't need a guard right now. Go back to Lux."

"Aren't you going to the execution?"

Prim shook her head. "No, I've given him enough of my life."

Ace straightened and placed his giant sword on his shoulder. A gun hung off the holster from his pocket.

"Then I'm not going anywhere either. Put your children to sleep. I'll be here in case some crazy loon wants to assassinate at the last minute." He tiled his head to the side. "Lux's allegiance infuriated me at first. I thought you weak, but I underestimated you. Maybe we all did. But it's no matter. My sword now belongs to you, whenever you need it."

Prim nodded her head, accepting his offer and walked into the room.

Moments Later

The kid's slept in a room that overlooked the courtyard, where the execution will take place any moment. The curtains were drawn tightly, shielding them from the sight.

When Prim walked inside, Coral sat on a bed next to Mrs. Manniola, immersed in a book. An old fable from before the dark days war. A little dark for Prim's taste, but Coral loved it. In the corner, the boys sat in two bouncy seats. Rory was already asleep, his little lips pursing by reflex, as if dreaming of something he didn't agree with.

Max cooed and gurgled at the toys, swiping his hands and missing the target. He looked so determined, giving an identical frown as his father when he didn't get what he wanted.

Prim carefully transferred Rory to a bassinet, grateful he still stayed asleep. Max took a little longer. Coral helped, wrapping him in swaddle and giving him his pacifier. She hummed a lullaby while Prim rocked. The girl may be hesitant with Prim, but she was besotted with her little brothers.

Once Max went to sleep, Manniola patted Prim's shoulder.

"They're all yours now. Enjoy the screaming in the middle of the night. I sure won't miss it."

For the past week, Manniola, along with Mrs. Carthage and her mother, helped watch the kids while she attended to state affairs.

"Thanks for watching them."

"I didn't do it for free," she said. "I want what Cato promised me."

"And that is?"

"Snow's granddaughters."

A coldness seeped into Prim's chest. She thought she was rid of it, but life continued to send it back to her.

"And what do you want with them?"

"Honestly, I wanted to kill them." Manniola looked at her freshly painted red nails. "But now… those little brats have grown on me like warts."

Relief spread through Prim.

"You want to adopt them?"

"Not really. But they have no one else. And they're scared. They didn't ask to be born to a tyrant. And the people of Panem want to flay them. I need to take them away, change their names."

Prim nodded with a smile. "They're all yours."

Mrs. Manniola gave a sudden matching grin.

"You aren't so bad for a vulgar bitch."

"You're welcome."

Manniola walked out without even a goodbye, just a wink and a wiggle of her hips as she swayed out on dangerous-looking heels.

One Minute Later

When Manniola shut the door, it left Prim and Coral alone. The girl crawled on the bed and under the covers. Little tears trickled down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" Prim walked over and kneeled next to the bed. Coral sniffled again.

"My mommy's dead, isn't she? Like my pet spider Jenny smushed. He slept forever."

Prim's heart crushed, and she wanted to hide in a hole, but she had to answer the girl's question. There was no use lying.

"Yes, she is."

The girl cried a little but reached out a hand and grabbed Prim's.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Forever," Prim promised. The only promise left she was determined to fulfill.

"And daddy? Is he dead too?"

"No," Prim said quickly. "He's not dead. He was just a little naughty, so we had to put him in a room by himself to think about it."

"Like time out."

"Exactly."

"Can you sing me a song? The one you sung to me before."

Prim did as she said, humming under her breath, holding the girl's hands until her cries melted away, replaced by soft snoring. Prim reached down and kissed her red curls, basking in the contentment of her sleeping children. Something almost stolen from her. A little slice of heaven meant to be savored.

It was at that moment she took a peak outside of the windows. Snow waited to be hung, standing on the scaffold. The rope draped against folds of wrinkled skin. He looked pathetic and old, though he still managed to stand with a straight back and a sneer on his face.

Prim couldn't let him die this way. Without fear. With his honor intact. He deserved worse.

Five Minutes Later

Prim stomped out of the compound, Ace on her heels.

"Stop," she yelled, moments before he dropped. The crowd silenced and melted away when she walked through.

"Mockingjay," Snow greeted. "Come to see the death of an old man."

"I haven't come to watch your death." She motioned to Ace, who had already found a bow and arrows after asking him on the way out. He placed it in her hands. "I've come to participate. You'll be the last person I hurt. The last person I kill."

She stung the bow, watching as Snow's face transformed into fear. It was beautiful to her sight, something the monster in her craved long before Jace cracked her.

She aimed, knowing in her bones she wouldn't miss. All her training culminated in this moment.

"This is for Katniss."

She loosed the arrow. It whizzed in the air and struck him through the leg. It would not kill him, not yet.

Snow groaned but contained his cry.

"And this," she stung another one. "This is for Cato!" The second arrow seemed to fly faster than the first and embedded into his stomach. Snow couldn't contain his cry this time.

"You're turn Ace."

The brute behind her straightened in surprise.

"What?"

"You heard me." And then Prim raised her voice. "Snow's death is not mine. It's ours. It's the death of our children, our siblings, our parents. It's a lifetime of pain and slavery. The debt is great, and it deserves a steep payment."

Ace did not ask for any more explanation. He walked forward. Snow tried to wiggle away, but the blond brute grabbed him by the hair and stuck a sword through his side. A non-lethal wound.

"This is for Marvel," he snarled in the old man's face.

Lux sauntered up the steps next, face set in scowl. He unlatched a pen from his lapels, an identical one to the defunct one he gave Prim.

"I'd ask for you to send my regards to Ruby." He placed the pen to his arm. "But if heaven exists, then you aren't arriving there. I hope you enjoy Hell, fucker."

He pressed the top button. This time it worked. A red laser exited the bottom of the pen and went straight through his arm. Snow howled. The screams should twist her stomach, but they didn't.

Another person from the crowd came up and another and another. Saying names as they stabbed and tore and beat. Snow died faster than she thought, but still the lines and people came.

Prim stood by herself, forgotten in the crush of the crowd. She looked at the mutilated corpse without an ounce of empathy.

"This is for Theodora," she continued. "And for Rory, and Cassius, and Gale." She added their names to the wind for the last time, to be whipped around and forgotten in time.

Six Months Later

"Where is Madge?" A Harried woman in a pencil skirt, holding a clipboard asked. "The speech is supposed to start in five minutes, and she's nowhere to be found."

Prim shrugged her shoulders. Everyone came to her with problems that she didn't know the answers to. She only slipped behind the stage to wish Madge good luck for her campaign speech for presidency, the very first election in Panem.

The woman huffed and passed her in a hurry, twisting into the next room. With nothing left to do, Prim joined the search. It was odd that Madge was out of place. She was the type to be prepared. In school, when the teachers asked for a three-page paper, she always handed in five. If someone said to arrive at two, Madge Undersee arrived at noon.

As Prim walked down the hallway, she heard strange noises coming from a closet to her right. In confusion, she reached a hand out and opened the door.

Out tumbled the lost girl, jumbled in a heap at Prim's feet. Her golden hair was mused and tangled. Her skirt and blouse askew. Lipstick smeared to her cheek with one heel off.

"You're late," Prim said and tried not to smile at the woman's sudden horror, mouth open, eyes wide. It was as if she told her the world would end in five minutes.

"Fuck," Madge said. And then she gasped because she never cursed. Madge grabbed her missing heel and jammed it on her foot and sprinted down the hallway.

"Check your appearance before going on stage," Prim yelled down the hallway. "And good luck!"

"Fuck," Madge said again, the word sounding wrong out of her mouth. This time Prim couldn't hold back a snort of amusement. Madge disappeared, cursing the whole way.

"You're a terrible influence," Prim said to the other occupant of the closet. In response, out stepped Lux. He straightened his tie and gave a wicked smirk. Lipstick marks marred his white undershirt and his neck. His usually tamed hair stuck up in several places, half the buttons on his shirt gaped open, and his belt was out of several loops.

"She needed to relax." He buttoned up his shirt, missing buttonholes as he went. "I merely volunteered my expertise."

"I'm surprised I didn't find her murdering you."

There were four candidates in the running, but two of them were worthless. Before Lux put in his name, Madge was the shoo-in for the position, the darling of Panem. She had experience in leading; she had the passion. She was young, yes, but her youth was a foil to Snow's wrinkled hands and white beard. She energized the crowd. There wasn't a question of who'd win until Lux Rose proved his worth as a formidable advisory and added his name to the ballot. Suddenly Madge stuttered in speeches and fumbled her papers, blushing at every misstep.

"She keeps trying, but my lips tend to distract her from the deed." Lux leaned against the wall, no longer attempting to straighten his appearance. "Besides, a little healthy competition never hurt anybody."

"It's a miracle she let you kiss her in first place." The last time she talked to Madge, she was fuming mad. Every other sentence, the usually gentle and shy girl mumbled some threat of bodily harm towards the tattooed man.

"Ha, she kissed me first." He tucked his hands in his pockets in a lazy manner. "I'm just along for the sweet ride. Why do you think I ran against her in the first place? Normally, I can barely get a word out of her. She bolts away with even a smile. I had to do something drastic."

"Don't get your hopes up. I'm pretty sure she hates you, and I'm not sure I've seen her hate anyone."

He shrugged, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"That's the trick, I've discovered. Try to woo her when she's normal, and she hides away. But get her angry and she tugs you in closets and tries to rip your clothes off. A few more times and I'm sure she'll let me fuck her."

Prim bit her lip, trying to keep the smile off her face.

"That's quite the plan. Though I'm not sure she'll fall into your arms if you win the election. She's shy, but she'd competitive. Always top of the class, straight A's. Everyone's always loved her."

"Of course, she'll win," he scoffed, as if she was stupid. "As if I'd really want to be the leader of Panem. Heading District 1 is enough work, thanks. I'll make sure Madge wins, but not before making her a little flustered."

Prim rolled her eyes. Madge must be already at her speech. Prim hoped they fixed her appearance enough, but she doubted all the evidence could be erased. Lux had his speech next, and if he stepped out as he was, people would notice, and rumors would start.

Prim reached out and redid the buttons of Lux's shirt the right way and then straightened his jacket, covering the lipstick marks. She licked her finger and reached up and rubbed at the red smear on his neck. Lux raised an eyebrow at her, not moving from his relaxed position against the wall.

"Are you finally seeing sense and dropping Cato for me? The closet behind me fits two, I've already checked."

"Tempting," Prim said, not taking him seriously.

"I knew it would happen eventually."

He always joked with her like this. Madge hated it, and it wasn't until now she understood why. They were too good of friends by this point for anything to happen for real. After the war ended, he was right there to help her stabilize the country. She took temporary charge of the government, halting the makeshift games for the Capitol children. From there, she went through a painful process for six months, putting each brick of Panem back in place. She scoured Cato's Ancient texts that Lorcan found in his study for ideas on how to proceed.

It was difficult. Many of the same problems existed, including uneven distribution of wealth. Lux helped her with most of it, always clever with his solutions to problems. It was a start, at least. Now it was time to give up the reigns of leadership, and Prim never felt so relieved to take her children and return home.

When she finished straightening Lux's appearance, he grabbed her wrists, stopping their movements.

"I need to tell you something," he said. "I'm not supposed to. I promised I wouldn't. But I think you need to know."

Something in his expression stopped Prim. He was usually not so serious.

"What?"

"They let him go this morning."

Prim gasped, feeling her heart spasms. She was glad Lux held her arms because she felt as if her legs would go out from under her.

"But he's not due to be released for several months."

"The video evidence I presented showing Gale's duplicity worked better than expected."

"Why didn't you tell me as soon as it happened?"

Lux looked her over and frowned.

"He didn't look stable, Prim. And he asked me not to. I figured I'd give him some time to clear his head."

Prim tugged out of his hold and hobbled down the hallway.

"Aren't you going to wish me good luck for my speech?" He yelled after her. "I see how it is. You give it to Madge but not to me. I'll remember this."

She ignored him, knowing he attempted to rib at her again. But her heart pounded too hard to hear him.

The Next Day

Prim rested her head against the glass of the small car chugging down the street. Her thoughts didn't want to stay in the present. They flipped from anxiety for the future and then flipped back to the past.

Cato spent the last six months in Snow's white cells, awaiting trial for his part in Gale's death. The charges about him conspiring with Snow were dropped long ago, lacking evidence. It was Gale's death the districts couldn't get over. Panem cried murder. Prim put off the trial for as long as she could, waiting for Panem to stabilize, for a new leader to step up. A power vacuum left room for Cato to take control, and Prim couldn't let that happen. Not after all they sacrificed.

He'd turn the world bloody again. His fist tightening into iron. He'd be the general of terror.

She found the tape of Gale and Snow making their agreements a month after killing Gale. She had the evidence that would release him, show Cato acted for the safety of Panem. But she didn't give it up.

Instead she let him sit in jail. Every day it ripped out her heart to see him a little dimmer, a little more withdrawn. Even seeing Hannibal, alive and incorrigible, did nothing for his mood. A deep depression fell over Cato, and Prim began to worry. She painted his room bright colors, she gave him the best food, she gave him books to read.

Nothing worked. His depression was winning.

In desperation, she increased visitation rights. She brought the kids to the prison, getting special permission for him to hold them. The boys would coo and grab at the beard growing on his chin. He would kiss their bellies and make them giggle. Coral would snuggle into his side and he'd read to her for hours from an Ancient storybook Prim found in his study. He was no longer scared to parent her. He held her close whenever he could.

It was the only time he seemed alive.

But his warmth never extended to Prim. He glared from behind bars when he caught her eye, remembering who put him there in the first place. Or he ignored her outright, as if she was just a speck of dust floating on by.

Sensing Cato neared some mental breaking point, Prim finally allowed the trial to begin. She didn't expect it to go so quick, for the public to believe him so readily. She wasn't prepared to release for several weeks. She thought she had time to sift through her words and pull out the gleaming ones, the ones that would magically make everything better.

She had no more time. It was time to face the Lion.

The car pulled to a stop in front of Cato's mountain home. It had been bombed in the war. At some point, Snow sent someone to destroy the house, but they did a poor job. The bomb dropped over the dining room, exploding the room into shards, but the rest of the colossal house was untouched.

Rain drizzled. It rolled down the windows for a few moments before stopping. When she stepped outside the air felt fresh and clean as she sucked it into her lungs.

Prim kept one hand on the car door, staring at the house. It had been her prison once. Cato almost convinced her otherwise, but it had been a prison—a golden, gilded cage guarded by a beast. Despite that, Prim now felt at home, something she thought she'd never feel again.

The house looked dead. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed… Gentle wisps of fog curled around the carved posts.

A little mewl sounded from the doorway. She looked up to see a big, fat fluffy ball of fur stalking out the house.

"Buttercup!" Prim unshouldered her backpack and ran forward, scooping up the kitty, snuggling him close. Buttercup purred. Somehow he was fatter, despite no one watching over him.

"You always find your way back to me," Prim said. After several moments of sniffling into the cat's fur, Buttercup had enough of affection and hopped out of her arms.

When she looked up again, she saw Lorcan leaning against the post, both hands in his pockets.

Prim stilled. She hadn't seen him since the day she pushed a needle in his arm as he begged her not to.

"He's not in the house," Lorcan said.

"You drove him?"

Lorcan nodded.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"When Cato Carthage tells me to keep my mouth shut, I keep my mouth shut." He glared at first and then he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Stop looking at me like that."

She assumed her face came out begging. Lorcan had always been there for her, loyal to a fault. And she returned the favor by going against what he asked, though she wasn't sure what she could have done differently. She ran that day through her head a hundred times and always came to the same conclusions.

"I don't want you to hate me."

Lorcan stuck his finger in his mouth and pantomimed gagging.

"You and feelings, Everdeen. You always manage to sneak them in." Lorcan curled his lips in distaste and Prim crinkled her eyebrows. In response, he threw up his hands. "Fine. Fucking fine. He's going to kill me, but I'll tell you where he went if you stop looking as if I just drowned your ugly cat. It's making me uncomfortable." His eyes glanced at the car. "If you want to know, Cato stalked off and said something about finding peace." He stopped and glared. "I hope you're happy, because the next time you see me I'll be in a coffin."

Prim smiled.

"So you're saying I can come to your funeral? I thought you hated me."

"I'm only allowing you to come because you'd be the only one to go. You're my only friend remember? Dying is for the best. If I lived, I might start to become needy, calling you at odd hours to get your advice on some girl I want to date. Or god forbid, I might even come over for dinner."

"We can't have that. You'd make everything awkward."

"Exactly. So go and stop Cato from being such a morose motherfucker. I'd stay around for him to kill me, but honestly I'd rather not see you fucking like wild animals."

Lorcan walked towards Prim and grabbed the car door handle.

"You might as well stay. Cato won't ever forgive me." Prim sighed.

"Just show him your tits. He can't be angry at you then. "

Prim gave a punch to his shoulder and then rubbed her wrist. It hurt her more than him.

Lorcan reached out and grabbed Prim's shoulder.

"Don't worry so much. You know how to change his mind. Cato's never been able to deny you before." He brushed passed Prim and got in the back seat of the car, nodding at the driver. "I hope you don't mind me stealing your ride. Ace invited me to a night on the town, and I'm not about to pass it up. I'm like a fucking celebrity now. Free drinks and the girls throwing themselves at me. If you're wondering, I forgave you a long time ago. You've given me fame and fortune, and it's all I ever wanted. And I didn't have to kill anyone to get it. So see you later, Everdeen."

He smirked and shut the door. Prim shook her head and watched the car speed down the gravel road and into the mountains.

Prim turned back to the house and worried the ring on her finger.

Finding Peace, Lorcan said. There was only one place that fit the description. Prim huffed a breath in exasperation. Of course, he'd make me work for it.

Three Hours Later

Prim panted, wondering if hiking ever got easier. Cato enjoyed it. So did Coral. Prim didn't understand the appeal. She wore the wrong clothes and shoes for the job and when she finally scaled the final top-of-hill, sweat dripped across her body, and her shoes blistered and pinched her toes.

"Nothing short of death threats can make me climb this bitch again," Prim huffed. She thought she was quiet about it. But Cato was trained to listen for people sneaking up on him.

"Hello, little bird." Cato sat by the edge with his feet dangling off. It was said in greeting, but it came out like ice, freezing her body. He did not want her there, but she did not climb for three grueling hours to be ignored.

She inched forward towards him, and despite her stomach lurching upwards, she sat beside him, letting her feet dangle off into the void. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" He squinted in the sun. She noticed he held a photograph in his right hand. She tried to view it, but he held it facing the opposite way.

"I've come back to you."

"You've found me. Now leave me be."

Prim flinched. His free hand picked a flower and crushed it in his hand. She wouldn't obey him. She stopped long ago following his orders like a little lamb. He needed to understand. But pressing the issue might break more things.

He groaned when she wouldn't move.

"So which little shit will I have to murder for squealing on me? Lux, Hannibal, or Gabatha?"

"Well, Hannibal is in District 4 with Katla, so didn't have anything to do with it. He's supposed to be overseeing getting the fishing industry back up and running, but I bet he's just swimming around in the ocean not getting anything done as usual."

"Rose and Gabatha need to learn to keep shit to themselves."

"They wanted to but—"

"But they think you can save me somehow? Too late, little bird. I've always been damned."

"I don't want to fucking save you. I've done enough of that lately, thanks. If you're drowning, the only thing I'll do is drown with you."

His body tensed. The unspoken words strained against his skin.

"What's the photograph?" Prim asked, hating the tense silence.

He sighed and uncurled his hand. She grabbed it and smoothed the creases. It revealed a young teenage girl with white blonde hair and brown laughing eyes like Hannibal's.

She searched her memories and found the conclusion.

"Your sister," Prim said. "Helena."

Cato did not show surprise she knew her name. The sister the family never spoke about.

He nodded once and then stared back into the sun. It was brighter now, piercing its way through the clouds.

"What happened to her?"

He didn't look at her.

"I'll tell you," he said. "But only so you'll understand. After that I want you to leave me alone on this mountain. Agreed?"

Prim's emotions bunched in her. She didn't think this was a fair trade, but her mind still worked. He couldn't get rid of her that easily. Not after all she went through.

"Fine. Agreed."

He still refused to look at her. He faced the sky as he talked.

"Do you remember Plato Brandston?"

"No."

"He was a victor. Four years before me. Biggest fucking narcissistic bastard I'd ever met, reminded me of Hartline. A few years after winning, he set his sights on my sister. It wasn't something out of the ordinary. She'd been rejecting suitors for years. Just look at her… fucking gorgeous. Barely sixteen in the photo."

Prim did what he asked, and he was right. She looked like sunshine, the type of beauty the Capitol always tried to emulate with candy-colored hair and plastic surgery.

"Did she like him back?" Prim asked.

"Opposite. She told him to fuck off, and he decided he wouldn't take no for an answer."

With the following silence, Prim filled in the blanks.

"He stole her," Prim guessed. "As a Manato?"

"It was sudden," he said. "One day she was practicing sword play with me, and the next she was shut into his house. He only let us see her after my father pushed the authorities hard, using his own status as victor. I thought my father would rip his head off when they visited us. He smirked when he arrived and rubbed the small bump on her belly. There was—there was nothing we could do."

Prim reached out and touched his hand, but he tugged it away.

"But she was only sixteen?"

"Old enough to get pregnant. It was all that mattered. The last time I saw her I promised her I'd win the games and somehow kill him after."

He took the crumpled flower in his hand and flung it off the cliff. Prim watched it float down, until it disappeared.

"She didn't wait, did she?" Prim asked softly.

"She tied a sheet around her neck and hung herself off a balcony. Plato found her the next morning. The fucker had the gall to drop her body off at our doorstep with a note that said, 'disappointing breeder, Carthage.' As if she was a fucking cow—"

His voice broke for the first time the entire monologue. Prim stayed silent, feeling if she spoke, he would suddenly stop talking.

"We buried her on our old property. She was about six months pregnant. I think my father died that day, long before he did on the battlefield. He loved her the most out of us, the only one he refused to allow into training camps."

Mr. Carthage died in the final assault on the Capitol. He killed ten capitol soldiers before it happened. Mowed them down as easily as grass, and then he stepped on a land mine, blowing himself to pieces. Prim allowed Cato to get out of prison for the shared funeral of Cassius and his father, accompanied with ten guards and in chains. It added to the things he might never forgive her for. He didn't cry or frown or smile during the whole thing, sitting like a statue in clanking chains.

"What happened to Plato?"

"I didn't kill him after my first victory. I didn't have enough influence yet. But after my second…" Cato paused. "Let's just say his death was long and painful, and I enjoyed every minute of it."

If he had told her that story when they first met, she would have been horrified at his casual ability to inflict violence, even if it had been justified. Now Prim didn't blink. The blood now longer bothered her, like Cato promised her.

"Why do you have the photo?" She handed it back to him. He grabbed it, cradling it for a moment tenderly before throwing it off the cliff as he did the crumpled flower. It twirled in the air like a dancer as it fell.

"I vowed never to take a manato after her death. I…" he stopped and finally looked at her. The sun reflected off his pale blue irises, a wintry sea. "You came here asking for my forgiveness. You think I blame you. You think I'm mad at you." His face twisted in a grimace. "I broke my vow to her, little bird. I saw you, took you without your permission. What I did was unforgiveable. No wonder you put me in chains. Your only mistake was taking me out of them."

Prim shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Forgive me," Prim said. "I had to do what was right for Panem. The things you said you'd do to the Capitol. The way you would have ruled. I couldn't let you be a—"

"Tyrant?" Cato asked, a hard edge to his voice. "Your instincts were right. I would have punished them. The streets would have been colored red with blood. It's my nature. Putting me in chains was a rational decision. I don't blame you for that. Which is why you need to leave this mountain. My control is weak. I want to be fucking selfish. Steal you back. Never let you leave me again. The only thing stopping me is that I love you. And my love is why I need to let you go, for your own good."

Prim rolled her eyes.

"And everyone calls me a martyr… Go ahead steal me back and never let me leave you again. You think you're the only one that can be selfish?"

Cato stood up in a fury and began to pace. The rocks crackled under his boots.

"You must be messed up in the head like the rat said. I stole you, fully intending to fuck you whether you wanted me or not. Without a fucking thought to what it would do to you. My sister would spit on me, if she were alive. She'd spit on Hannibal and Cassius too. We all deserve to rot like the beasts we are."

Prim stood up, standing still, watching him pace. She brushed her hands free of dirt on her dress.

"Messed up in the head? I guess I am, but it's not your fault. I used to think I was broken, a monster. But I'm neither. I'm just strong. And the longer I think on it, the longer I realize I've always been this way."

Cato stomped forward and grabbed her shoulders in his frustration. He pressed hard enough to bruise.

"Stop being stupid," he snarled in her face. "Fun fast and far. Or I'll destroy you too, if you give it enough time. When I first saw you at the dance, I intended to stalk you down like prey. Does that scare you? It should. When you were smart enough to evade me, I placed cameras around your old shack. I'd sit and watch for hours, fascinated at how gentle you could be healing your patients. Calm. Patient. Kind. You were something I'd never seen before, and I wanted it all for myself. That rat was planning on marrying you, and I was going to let him. Because you were fucking mine." He let go of one shoulder and thumped his chest. "And it's not until you put me in a cell, that I realized I never fucking deserved you." He pushed her shoulder, so she stumbled away. "So leave me be. I'm begging you."

Prim took a step backward. "Okay, I'll leave."

His shoulders deflated, as if all his reserves of strength were ripped away with the words.

She walked towards the path. And then her smirk turned as wicked as his could be. She unbuttoned the cardigan on her shoulders as she walked and shrugged it off her shoulders. She pulled it off and flung it aside slowly. She peeked over her shoulder, and saw his eyes watching her every movement hungrily.

"Though I must warn you, you were right so long ago." She stared to unbutton the top of her yellow sun dress. "I only run so you can catch me."

She flicked her hair and smirked one more time before disappearing down the bend.

Out of sight, she heard a groan of frustration.

"Fucking hell," he said.

One Hour Later

Going down a mountain was far easier and quicker than scaling it. She hopped along, whistling a little tune, allowing herself to soak in the sunshine that finally peeked from behind the clouds. The wind rustled the leaves in the trees.

She reached the house and picked up her discarded backpack and went on inside. Buttercup followed at her heel. The desolation inside made her pause, a brief ache in her heart. It's washable, she reminded herself. Most things can be rebuilt with time.

Prim walked through the hallways, bypassing water damage and stepping over piles of leaves that had blown in through the shattered dining room. It smelled of mildew and rot, but with each step she felt more at home.

She ended at his study. This time she did not have to pick the lock. The door creaked open with a slight push, revealing an interior unblemished by the elements. She ran her fingers along the green felt top of the pool table, the plan solidifying in her mind.

She knew Cato would be a boulder, unmovable with his stubborn pride. So she came prepared. Prim set the backpack on the pool table, unzipped it, and took out the contents.

Thirty Minutes Later

When Cato entered the study, his mouth fell open.

Prim sat on the pool table, a tie loosely looped around her neck, legs gently crossed, and completely naked. The tie fell between her breasts and she tugged at it. The fire roared in the fireplace beside her, basking her body in an amber glow.

He did not move, except to place a hand on the doorjamb.

Maybe Lorcan was right. Showing her tits might do the trick.

He gave a little groan, as if in severe pain.

"You agreed to leave me."

"Correction," Prim said. "I agreed to leave the mountain. You need to be more specific with your deals."

His hand left the doorjamb and clenched by his side. He grimaced, but his anger did not stop his eyes from touching every part of her. She leaned back to let him view more.

"Why does it smell like baking bread?" Cato said, his voice strained.

"It's my breakfast. I'm starving, so kindly grab it for me."

He hesitated, eyebrows bunching, but he did what she asked. He walked over and grabbed the slice of bread toasting. She had made a makeshift spit with the poker. When he pulled the bread off, he stared at it with distrust and confusion.

"Where did you get bread?"

"I brought it."

"Why?" His eyebrows furrowed even more. "What are you planning?"

Prim did not give him any more time to think about it.

"I want you to sit down." She pointed to a leather chair in the corner.

"Why should I?"

"You want absolution from your crimes?" Prim asked with venom. He stilled, everything straightening. Then slowly he nodded. "Then sit the fuck down."

Again, he did what she asked. He walked slowly to the leather chair in the corner and sank into his worn brown cushion.

"I don't understand."

"It's an easy choice. Do you want to be punished?" She twirled the tie in her hand, allowing her fingers to dip down the skin on her chest. Cato's jaw clenched, watching her hands move. "Or do you want to be pardoned? Your crimes are great Cato Carthage. Stealing me. Fucking me. Forcing me see you as someone worthy of forgiveness. Maybe even worthy of love?"

She unfurled her legs and hopped off the pool table, letting her bare feet sink into the plush carpet below.

"Don't come any closer," Cato warned, as if on edge of control.

Prim walked forward slowly, ignoring him. She tilted her head with a little smirk, a little bit of the monster peeking out, enjoying his torment. Lack of control was precisely what she wanted.

He glanced at her fearfully, as if she was a snake come to inject him with venom. When she got to him, she crawled in his lap, folding her legs on either side of him. He groaned and leaned his head back, refusing to look at her, but his hands slid up the sides of her thighs, as if he couldn't help himself, despite his protests.

"Justice is coming, Cato Carthage." She grabbed his shirt and unbuttoned it. In response, his hands trailed up to her waist and closed on her ribs, fingers clenching into her skin, as if he was about to push her away with his last bit of strength. Prim's lips met with the skin just above his collar bone. Cato shuddered under her, and on instinct, he brought her closer. One button. Two. Three. She popped them down until his chest was bare. Her fingernails went out and dug into his flesh and scratched, while she rocked forward.

"Prim… I can't stop myself. If you let me—"

Prim growled and gripped his jaw in her hand, forcing him to look eye to eye.

"I'm a victor now too. Or have you forgotten? By the laws of your district, I can take what I want." She sat back and unlooped the tie around her neck and pushed it down over his head. She cinched it tight, before he could rip it away. "You've worn the clothes I've given." She reached down and pinched off a piece of toast, crumbled and abandoned beside him on the chair. She placed it at his lips. He didn't open for her.

"You want to be stubborn about this?" She leaned forward and bit his lip until she gained entrance. He opened with a little sigh, and as their tongues brushed together, she slipped the food in his mouth. Then she ended the kiss, closing his jaw until she saw his Adam's apple bob, showing he swallowed. She popped her own piece of toast in her mouth, giving a smirk while chewing. "And now you've eaten the food I gave." She leaned forward and placed her lips against his ear, allowing her breasts to brush against his scarred chest. "There's only one task left, husband. Fuck me. Like you did the first time. Except this time, you don't have to be gentle."

He stood up abruptly. She let out a little squeak in surprise, wrapping her legs around his waist to steady herself. His face looked possessed. His fingers dimpled into her ass as he stalked forwards, until his legs hit something, and he laid her backwards. Her hair splayed out around her as he laid her down on the green felt of the pool table. His lips brushed her stomach, and she tangled her fingers through his hair. His touch caused her body to spasm, to breath correctly for the first time in months.

"You called me husband?"

So he noticed it finally.

"I did."

"But we aren't married." His kisses edged downwards but not far enough. He left her aching on purpose. His stubble scratched her inner thighs. "I don't like hearing the lie."

"Your district has your customs. My district has some of our own." She pushed up on her elbows, and he pulled back, staring at her, blinking slowly. "It's called a toasting," she explained. "A couple isn't married until they've toasted bread over the fire and eaten it."

"So according to your district, we're now married?" He sounded shocked, as if didn't expect to be surprised ever again.

Prim placed a hand on his cheek.

"You stole me. And now I've stolen you back."

He was silent for a long time, absorbing the turn of events, and then he tipped his head back and laughed.

"Do you—" She began but stopped when he crawled up on the pool table and gripped the sides of her head in his hands and gave a brutal kiss, laughing almost hysterically against her lips.

He was crying too, she discovered in shock as little droplets hit her skin. Crying, laughing, kissing across her body while he did it. As if his relief, his joy, was so great it all released at once.

"Oh, little bird. Forever, it is."

He fucked her tenderly the first time, showing her every ounce of love he contained. And then hours later, he fucked her roughly, showing her his hurt and anger.

They didn't go back to civilization for three days. And that was only to restock on supplies and retrieve their children from her mother and Mrs. Carthage who became odd friends while taking care of their grandchildren, and then they returned to the cabin in the woods, slowly rebuilding their lives.

It wasn't a fairytale. His temper would simmer, and her words would hurt. But at the end of the day they ended in each other's arms.

A long time ago, Prim vowed to hate Cato Carthage forever.

It was all the lion's fault she fell in love.

And for the first time in her life, Prim really lived.

THE END