We began the story with Peeta, and it only seemed right to end with him, too. At long last, here is the epilogue to More Than Words.

Peeta

Her long, black braid whips around a bush in front of me as I struggle to keep up with her, my feet somehow managing to find every twig and dead leaf in my path. Meanwhile, Katniss's feet are sure and silent as she pads lightly across the forest floor, and she's managing it with a baby on her back. How she does it is beyond me; I can't help admiring her for it. This is Katniss in her element, freer than I've seen her in months.

"It's not much farther," she assures me. I'm only able to grunt out a singular reply, my breathing too heavy to talk much. But if what she promised comes to fruition, the hike will be worth it. It is a good thing Katniss is not planning on hunting today, because I have certainly scared off every animal within a 10-mile radius with the level of din I'm creating. She doesn't seem to mind, though, and from behind her, I've got the perfect view of both my girls. Two dark heads bobbing through the woods together.

There is a lightness to this day that has little to do with the cloudless sky and accompanying balmy weather, and everything to do with the end of the war. The rebels have won. We are free. Newly minted President Paylor is doing everything she can to ensure that.

When the rebel forces finally gained ahold of District Two, it was only a matter of time until the end of the war. Coriolanus Snow surrendered when our soldiers infiltrated the Capitol. He believed, in his arrogance, that he would be spared from punishment if he presented himself in peace to the rebels rather than try to fight or escape. He could not have been more wrong. For all his crimes, he has been sentenced to death. His hanging is today. It will be aired publicly, but it is not required viewing. When Katniss suggested that we get out of the district for while rather than watch it live, I knew it was the right choice for us. A fresh start for our new family.

President Coin, for her part, became the focus of a lengthy investigation after several citizens and soldiers from District 13 came forward to report the questionable choices she made during her term in office. As such, she has been charged with numerous war crimes, committed both before and during the rebellion. Her trial is yet to come, but one thing is for certain: Alma Coin will never work in politics again.

We walk through the dense brush for another ten minutes or so, and when we finally enter the clearing Katniss described to me back in our shared compartment, I can see that she was right. It is beautiful and peaceful here, the ground abundant with wildflowers and the nearby stream babbling cheerfully in the midday sun. I pull a blanket out of the bag I'm carrying and spread it on the ground so Katniss can settle in with Willow. The baby comes always comes first now, and it is time for her to eat.

At four months old, Willow is such a cheerful, vivacious baby. She has yet to say her first word, but Mrs. Everdeen claims that she babbles more than Katniss or Prim ever did. Her giggles are the most infectious thing in the world. Her mere existence brings everyone hope. She is our dandelion in the spring; the first of a new generation, just one of many children who will never have to live with the threat of the Hunger Games over their heads.

While Katniss feeds the baby, I assemble a modest lunch from the contents of the hamper. Cold- cut sandwiches on fresh bread and special fruit tarts that I made special for today. By now, Katniss has mastered the art of eating a meal single- handed and she digs in as soon as I hand her a sandwich.

"Are you sure you want to go back tomorrow?" I ask, observing her reaction closely.

Katniss frowns around large mouthful of sandwich. "Of course I'm sure. Where else would we go?"

"I'm only thinking out loud, I guess. I just mean we could go anywhere we want. We could go to Four with your mom and Prim, for one thing. I'm sure I could open a bakery there and you could-"

"Shhh, Peeta," she says, and she abandons her sandwich to lay a finger across my lips. "We talked about this. We want our daughter to grow up where we did. In Twelve. I want her to see my forest and I want us to rebuild your parent's bakery so you can teach her everything you know."

"Yeah, but-"

"Besides, who's gonna look after Haymitch if we don't go back? You know he'll never leave Twelve."

She makes a fair point. Haymitch is just as much a part of our family as Willow is. We can't leave him behind. Katniss traces her finger along my jaw and down my neck. The contact is enough to raise goose bumps on my skin. "Still there's always Seven with Johanna or even Two with Gale…" The air chills over instantly. I meant it more as a joke, but I should not have mentioned Gale. The bad blood there is still much too fresh. I don't know exactly what went on between he and Katniss, but I know enough. Yet there is still a lurking fear where the tracker jacker venom has all but vanished in my brain telling me that Katniss's heart truly lies with him. I think it's that part of me that's making me subconsciously sabotage our relationship by saying stupid things like this.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

She shakes her head. "I love you, Peeta. I always will." I nod my head, sucked into her entirely sincere gaze. I believe her. I do. "Besides, we'll see all of them often enough. You know that Finnick will be dying to show off the baby once he's born." That's true. Finnick is still ever the show- off and he's exceedingly grateful to Katniss for her refusal to go to District Two. When she gave up her status as the Mockingjay, he was let off the hook too. Annie is about four months along.

It is then that Willow finishes her meal and Katniss shifts the baby to her shoulder for burping. The action is so seamless, so natural, that if I didn't know Katniss so well, I would never know she did not plan on becoming a mother at all. The role suits her so perfectly that I can't imagine her any other way. If it is at all possible, my love for her has deepened immeasurably since Willow came into our lives.

"Wanna go wading in the water?" I ask when the baby has been burped and our food eaten.

"Peeta, it'll be freezing," says Katniss, rolling her eyes. She's probably right. Winter weather has gone for the year, but spring is still cold enough to bring frost to the ground most mornings.

"Guess we'll find out!" Before she can stop me, I scoop up the baby and head for the stream, kicking off my shoes and socks as I go. I bound into the water and halt immediately. Katniss was right. The water stings like needles on my bare feet.

Katniss stands on the bank, hands on her hips, clearly trying to hold back her laughter. "I told you," she says. I give her a mischievous grin, lowering Willow toward the water.

Katniss's eyes narrow to slits. "You wouldn't."

I would. I lower Willow so just the tips of her tiny toes touch the surface of the water. It works. Katniss bounds for me, splashing into the stream.

"Peeta! You'll give her pneumonia!" But Willow is giggling and kicking her chubby legs, toes skimming the surface of the water. Katniss starts laughing too, and I join in. The forest rings with the sound of us, actually laughing for the first time in ages. Then Willow gives a particularly hard kick and splashes Katniss in the leg with the icy water. Katniss stops dead, and I take the opportunity to scoop up a handful of water and hurl it at her, too. Katniss shrieks as the water douses her front and Willow giggles more than ever.

"Oh you think that's funny?" she says, reaching toward the water herself.

"Ah ah ah, I have the baby!" I sing- song, holding Willow up in front of me as a shield from her retaliation.

"That's playing dirty, Mellark."

"What are you gonna do about it?" I challenge. Katniss stares at me dead in the eyes for a second that contains an eternity. Then without warning, she whips her shirt off over her head to reveal her thin cotton bra completely soaked through, and leaving very little to the imagination.

"I'm going to go dry off." And she flounces away in a very un-Katniss-like fashion, leaving me in the stream, mouth agape.

Katniss and I have made leaps and bounds together since she gave up being the Mockingjay, but the physical intimacy between us has been lacking, largely due to the lack of privacy in District 13. But now, a half- naked Katniss lounges in the sun only a few yards away from me. My body begins to respond in ways that have been dormant for months now, enticing me to act on it.

But there is still Willow to contend with. Trudging out of the water and back to our picnic spot, I dry her feet, change her wet diaper with the skill of a practiced pro, and wrap her in an extra blanket, just in case. She does not protest. She gazes up at me with huge blue eyes as I stoke the soft hair atop her head in the way that promises to lull her into sleep. We remain that way for several minutes, father and daughter wrapped in each other. Then her eyes become heavy, her blinks last longer, and soon she has drifted off to sleep. It's too easy. She'll wake up again soon and demand attention once more, and I will be only too happy to oblige her. One concrete certainty in our future is the fact that I will never deny her anything. Willow will have the healthy and happy childhood that was impossible for Katniss and myself. But for now, it feels like she is giving her mother and I the alone time we desperately crave. I'll take it.

I settle the baby in a nest of blankets and crawl over to where Katniss lays, eyes closed and soaking in the afternoon sun that trickles in through the trees. My fingers trail up the skin of her arm, which is a few shades lighter than her usual olive tone thanks to all the time she has spent underground. A few new scars from the Quell adorn her body, but they only make her more beautiful to me. My eyes cast over her damp bra and the dark wisps of hair escaping her braid. I can tell that she is awake, but she hasn't opened her eyes since I left the stream. Stubborn girl. She startles a little when my lips touch her upper arm. "I have something for you," I whisper.

She cracks open an eye. "You do?"

"Uh huh. Wanna see it?" Her head bobs up and down, and I reach into the picnic bag. When my fingers close around the chain, I lift it up for her to see.

"Is that-"

"It is," I affirm. She sits up and grabs the locket from me. It is the same one I gave her during the Quell. It's still broken in half and there's no chance of fixing it, given that we left the other half in the arena, but I have made one small change. "Turn it over."

She gasps when she finds the tiny picture I've drawn of Willow, all blue eyes and rosy cheeks with that shock of dark hair. Cameras are hard to come by in 13, so I figured this would be just as good. "I had to take out the photo of your mom and Prim, but I don't think they'd mind, do you?" I ask her. Katniss shakes her head.

"No, I don't. It's perfect, Peeta. Really." She throws her arms around me and I give in to her embrace. I would stay here all day if she'd let me.

Our kiss begins slowly. I don't know which one of us initiates it, but our lips find each other as though it is the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is. I have been kissing Katniss long before there were any true feelings involved, and even back then I knew that her lips belonged with mine. We fit perfectly together, like the two missing pieces of a puzzle. She tastes the same as she always did. Sweet and earthy and simply Katniss. There is no other way to describe it. She is impossibly beautiful and unique. When I inhale, her sent fills my senses.

And then there is heat, sparking where her lips are melded to mine and spreading through my entire body. The sensation warms my chest and limbs, burning all the way out to my fingers and toes. The arousal that began minutes ago becomes more prominent as more blood rushes south. Katniss makes the first sound that either of us has made since the beginning of our kiss. A deep, longing moan that sinks into my bones. I ache to touch her, and she must read my mind because she pulls me down to rest on top of her. My hips give an involuntary thrust at the contact. Even through our clothing, I can feel her center hot with need. She wraps her legs around my waist, giving me better access, and lifts her hips up into mine. She pulls a groan from the back of my throat when her fingers curl into my hair, further securing my face to hers. If this keeps up, I'm going to come far too soon.

It takes all my willpower to wrench myself away from her, and when I do, the look on her face nearly shatters me. She thinks I'm rejecting her. Or maybe she thinks I'm having another hijacking episode. Nothing could be further from the truth. I lean down to place another gentle kiss upon her swollen lips, explaining wordlessly that in this moment, I am entirely hers. I have always been hers. She moves my hand to her chest, slipping my fingers under the material of her bra. Together, we shimmy the damp fabric over her head and cast it away. My lips fall immediately to her chest, lavishing kisses over both breasts, giving each the proper attention it deserves. It is both familiar and brand new at the same time to cradle them in my hands as she writhes beneath me, squirming with pleasure.

When my lips meet hers again, her fingers fumble for the buttons of my shirt. I help her along, sliding it from my shoulders, and allowing Katniss to run her hands up and down my chest. I've been working hard to replace the muscle mass I lost to malnourishment and torture in the Capitol, training with the rest of the soldiers when I have the time. By the look on Katniss's face, it has paid off. Her fingers leave a trail of pleasant tingles wherever they touch my naked skin. Suddenly, the urge to feel her skin on mine is overwhelming.

I grab her hands and hold them above our heads, pressing myself into every line of her body. Her perfect breasts heave into my chest with each panting breath she draws. "As much as I love Willow, I don't think we're quite ready for another baby yet, don't you think?" I breathe into her ear. Katniss pulls away from me, looking disappointed at the implication that we should stop here, but agrees with me, nodding her head yes.

"Then we better use these." I rummage through the picnic bag one- handed, finally locating the item.

"Where did you get that?" Katniss's eyes widen at the box of foil wrapped condoms in my hand.

"Uh, Haymitch gave them to me actually. I guess Thirteen has it's own black market," I admit, a deep blush coloring my face and neck. "He made it very clear to me that he has enough on his plate with the three of us now to look after and a fourth might drive him back to the white liquor." I decide leave out the part where he told me that Katniss will be easier to tolerate once she gets laid again. I might have already killed the mood by mentioning Haymitch in the first place.

But Katniss only smiles. "And you brought the whole box with us today? You had lofty expectations for a trip into the woods, didn't you?"

I shrug my shoulders. "What can I say? I'm an optimist."

"What are you waiting for, then?" That's all it takes. I peel my pants and underwear away from my body while Katniss does the same. She settles herself in my lap, knees apart, straddling my legs. I haven't even touched her yet, and already I can tell that she is dripping wet. Sinking two fingers into her folds confirms my suspicions. Katniss moans and grinds herself onto my hand. When I remove my fingers and place them in my mouth, her taste comes back to me like the sweetest memory. How could I have ever forgotten this? In this moment, it doesn't seem possible that I could have.

If she would let me, I would lie Katniss down right now and savor every inch of her. I'd taste her and pleasure her until she forgets her own name. But she seems hell bent on getting what she wants. And right now, what she wants is me. I decide that this time, I'll allow it.

She grips my cock in her hand. Ignoring my own needs up until this point has made me extremely sensitive. My whole body trembles when she runs her hand up and down my length. She leans down to place a single kiss on my weeping tip. "I've missed this so much," she mewls.

"Then what are you waiting for?" I challenge. Her silver eyes snap to mine, and the corner of her mouth quirks up the slightest bit. She grabs the condom and rolls it down over my length, then lunges forward to capture my lips with hers, my cock trapped between us and absolutely begging for release. I grab her ass and lift her up to position her just right. She grips my shoulders and I swallow her gasp as she sinks onto me, all the way to the hilt. It is like coming home. Our bodies fit so well together; we are two separate pieces of one being. The act comes so naturally and I'm relieved that this, at least, is one thing I will not have to relearn.

Katniss moves first. My hold on her ass tightens as she lifts herself up and plunges back down with a soft grunt. She does it again, this time so slowly it is almost painful. I allow this exactly one more time before I take control. Grabbing her hands, I lift them above our heads and roll us so that she lies on the blanket beneath me. It's lucky the forest floor is carpeted in soft pine needles. Her legs lock automatically around my waist, pulling me even deeper inside her plush walls. It jolts me into action, pulling out almost all the way before entering her again, just slowly enough so that I can feel every facet of her. I know I've hit just the right spot when her fingernails dig into the skin of my back, but I relish the pain. It helps to stave off the pleasure threatening to engulf me. I'm not ready for this to be over yet.

But Katniss, it seems, has other ideas. "Peeta," she mewls. My name is pure desire on her lips. It is a wanton promise, a desperate need. And it is going to be the death of me. My cock swells impossibly harder at the sound of her voice. "Let go, Peeta." Her words ghost over my face as I gaze into her eyes, pupils dilated so her smoky irises have all but vanished.

"I can't," I croak. Not yet. I want her to let go first. I angle myself so that my pubic bone brushes against her most sensitive area as I move in and out of her. She cries out each time I hit that spot, pleading for more, more, more. I will never deny her what she asks. My hips snap into her with reckless abandon, quickening with each thrust. Warmth begins to curl my toes, spreading from the place where Katniss and I are joined as one. With a final deep thrust, her head falls back and she lets out a strangled cry that reverberates around our intimate clearing. My mouth latches onto her exposed neck and I can't hold it back any longer as her walls contract around me. The pleasant warmth in my bones becomes fire that scorches blissfully through my body as I reach my peak, falling into ecstasy right alongside Katniss.

The one and only thought in my mind is that this is real. It is almost unthinkable to me after months of living in hazy confusion, but the clear truth of it grips me all at once. It is a tangible, concrete fact: Katniss is real, and she loves me. And I love her.

My limbs feel like jelly. I don't think I could move if I wanted to, but Katniss clutches me even closer to her, as though she is afraid I'll disappear if she so much as loosens her vice grip on me. She needn't worry. I'll be here as long as she allows me to be. My lips seek hers, and she meets me in a long, lazy kiss.

The woods seem to come to life as we lay together. Mockingjays sing in the trees overhead and the sunlight filters down through the canopy of leaves while our infant daughter sleeps peacefully nearby. It is the very definition of a perfect moment. The first in what I dearly hope is a lifetime of perfect moments. "What are you thinking?" Katniss breathes in my ear. I shift myself so as to look directly into her eyes. A million things that I could say race through my head, but only one thought makes it past my lips.

"I still can't believe this is real."

Katniss smiles. "It's real, Peeta. I promise." Our languid kiss increases in intensity, teeth and tongues clashing in the heat of our mouths. I'm getting hard again already. But there is one thing I want to do before anything else. I break away from the kiss to nibble the sensitive area at the base of her neck. Katniss's skin is beaded with sweat and soft as velvet under my tongue. My lips paint a trail down her body, from the valley of smooth skin between her perfect breasts to her stomach, taught with anticipation. Her legs part willingly under my touch. "Peeta," she moans when I reach the mound at her center. Her silky voice transforms my name into an ethereal song. I want to listen to it for the rest of my life.

My hand slides upward in search of hers. Almost instantly, Katniss laces her fingers through mine. It means I love you. She first said those precious words to me in the throes of passion what seems like a lifetime ago. Those words were my one shining truth after my mind was warped with venom and fear and lies. They came back to me when nothing else could fight through the confusion, and they come back to me now as a beacon of hope and promise for our future. My last, euphoric thought before I close my eyes and lose myself in Katniss is that I will never again have to let her go.

A/N: You didn't think I'd leave you without a final sex scene, did you? It's been far too long, imo!

I can't believe this story is finished at last. What began as a one- shot ended up transforming into an entirely different beast that took me a year to complete. Enormous thanks go out to all of my dedicated readers who have taken this journey with me and encouraged me to keep going with this- I sincerely couldn't have done it without you. Whether you've spoken to me personally, or you're just a number in my stats, I appreciate every single one of you. Thank you for taking the time to read my little fic.

I've got a number of stories in progress that I hope to begin posting soon… follow me here or on my tumblr (everlarkstoastbabies) for updates on those. In addition, I'm posting an outtake from Part 8 following Peeta's rescue from the Capitol that didn't quite make it into this story. It's a little flashback to the very end of The Hunger Games, when Katniss breaks Peeta's heart on the train tacks. But this time, she gets a second chance to do it over. It's called Back to the Start if you're interested, and you can find it under my profile.

Once again, thank you for reading. Reviews would be the cherry on top of this More Than Words sundae.

xoxo