Chapter Text
Madge’s pillow was moving. Up and down, up and down, a steady drumbeat pounding in her ear. She opened her eyes and realized it wasn’t her pillow that was moving, but Gale. She sat up slightly, waking him. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly at her. “Good morning,” he whispered. “Are you feeling better?”
She nodded. The light in the room was odd—it was morning, but it seemed more like twilight. She crawled out of the huge four poster bed and shuffled toward the windows. Outside, snow was falling gently, transforming the world from bleak and grey to a brilliant white. Gale draped a blanket over her shoulders as he joined her. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“It is,” he agreed, untucking her hair from the blanket. “Would m’lady be feeling up for a walk?”
Madge was still exhausted, but a walk in the snow sounded appealing. Especially if Gale was there. She assented, and he left to have Delly come up and help her into warm clothes. Thoroughly bundled up—and admonished not to go far, given her weakened condition—she met Gale in the back garden. The air was bracing in her lungs and the cold helped ease the heat in her cheeks. He offered her his arm and she took it as they began to walk, the snow still falling gently. The world was hushed, peaceful. She almost forgot her husband was a near stranger attempting to start a rebellion. But as they slowly circled her gardens, her hand warmly tucked under his arm, she realized he was no longer a stranger—she understood him. The anger she’d sensed in him at the start was still there, but it wasn’t directed at her. His rage was directed at Snow, at the system. With her he could be kind. He wasn’t charming and effervescent the way the crown prince had been, but she felt steady with him; more like herself. Madge tilted her head to study his profile and found him looking down at her. His gaze was intense and she looked away shyly.
A coughing fit made Gale insist that Madge return to the manor at once. Inside, Delly had a letter for Madge—her aunt Effie was coming for the Christmas holidays and would be arriving in a few days time.
“Who’s Aunt Effie?” Gale asked.
“My mother’s half-sister. She’s, er, unique.” Madge secretly dreaded Gale meeting Effie, who was a dear sweet woman but rather flighty and eccentric. And somehow, she didn’t think Gale would find Effie’s extravagant fashion sense to be charming.
Effie arrived with an entourage of servants and friends, filling the manor to the brim with people and laughter. Madge inwardly cringed as she realized her quiet home would suddenly be the scene of parties for complete strangers and longed for peaceful dinners with Gale instead. The only benefit to Effie’s presence was Madge and Gale had to share her chambers to ensure that all their guests had enough space.
They still hadn’t kissed, not since Crane’s disastrous visit. Things were warm and comfortable between them, but neither had moved beyond simple affectionate touches. Anything else was too fraught.
The first night Effie arrived, Gale had headed for his usual spot near the fire but Madge stopped him. “If we’re going to be staying together for awhile, it seems silly for you to sleep on the floor.”
Gale watched her closely. He hadn’t been in her bed since her illness. He slid under the covers warily and kept his distance that night. Madge didn’t quite want that, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him. She also wasn’t sure he wanted her close, and she wasn’t ready to find that out either.
The next night, however, he was in bed before her. She shivered as she crossed the room. “Cold?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Here.” He held up the blankets and moved aside, motioning for her to join him. She slipped in next to him and he cinched his arm around her waist. Gale was deliciously warm and Madge fell asleep quickly. From then on they spent the night in each other’s arms, either with Gale curled around her or Madge draped across his chest. She liked that better, she decided—she liked hearing his heart beat.
Effie’s companions were not the sort of people Madge would willingly surround herself with—flighty and vain, they mostly talked about the latest fashions and court gossip. Any recognition of the monster that was King Snow seemed beyond them. One woman even congratulated Madge on marrying someone as handsome as Gale. The fact that it hadn’t been her choice—no matter how she felt about him now—didn’t seem to matter to these creatures. Madge felt awkward around them, and as a result she felt awkward around Gale. The only time she felt like herself was when she retired to her chambers and wound herself around him as they slept.
Aunt Effie showed up to the Christmas dinner in an outfit so full of ruffles she was almost round. Gale couldn’t contain his snort of laughter and Madge had to dig her nails into her palm when she told Effie she looked beautiful. Whenever Effie spoke to them Madge had to be very careful not to catch Gale’s eye lest she burst into laughter, and later in the evening as Effie stood in front of them to talk to a friend Madge felt Gale tug at her sleeve. She turned just in time to see him toss a tiny piece of meat at Effie. It landed neatly in one of the ruffles of her skirt and Effie didn’t even glance their way. Madge tried to glare at him in disapproval, but the way his eyes glittered with mischief made it impossible.
Madge stifled a giggle as Gale tossed another piece, and then another, all of them settling into the innumerable ruffles of Effie’s dress. By the fifth piece she couldn’t stay quiet anymore and quickly left the main hall, Gale on her heels. She collapsed into giggles and they ducked into a dark alcove, breathless with laughter. Effie walked past soon after with half the manor’s dogs and cats on her heels, looking bewildered, which sent them into a fresh round of giggles. Gale pressed his body against her to shield her from sight as they tried to catch their breath.
As the laughing eased, Madge became acutely aware of Gale’s closeness. It wasn’t the sweet, comforting closeness of sharing a bed—it was something different, something more. She tilted her head up and found him looking at her with hooded eyes.
Suddenly, Madge knew what she wanted and she didn’t want to wait any longer. She ducked under his arm headed for the main stairs, throwing a look over her shoulder. He followed.
Gale’s mouth was on hers as soon as she shut the door, his fingers sliding into her hair and plucking the pins from the elaborate updo her ladies had spent the better part of an hour creating. It was undone within moments and her hair spilled down her shoulders. Madge unlaced his jerkin without pulling her lips away. His tongue traced her lower lip and she opened her mouth slightly, her knees almost buckling as his tongue met hers. Gale reached behind her to undo the laces of her dress, but after several moments of fumbling he wrenched away from her and swore under his breath.
Madge giggled and turned around. “That better?” she asked flirtatiously over her shoulder.
He tugged the ties loose and stepped closer to her as her dress fell, his nose skimming the shell of her ear. “Much,” he growled. He curved an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, his chest broad and warm against her back. Gale pushed her hair aside and trailed kisses down the side of her neck. She dropped her head back to give him better access before spinning to capture his lips in a kiss once again. He walked her backwards until she bumped into the bed.
Feeling bold, she fisted the sides of her shift and pulled it over her head. She was in nothing but her drawers and stockings, both of which she quickly shed as well. Madge reached for Gale and unlaced his breeches as he tugged his doublet off. With both of them bare Madge climbed onto the soft feather mattress and Gale settled just to her side. She was breathless with need as he slowly kissed down her neck, his hands coming to cup her breasts and tease her nipples. Madge scrabbled for purchase on his skin, trying to pull him closer and closer.
Gale craned his head back slightly to look in her eyes. “Are you sure?” he breathed, his eyes dark. She nodded, keeping her eyes on his. Madge had never been more sure of anything in her life. She tilted her head up to kiss him again and one of his hands drifted lower, skimming across her belly and down to where she ached for him. He parted her slowly, his callused fingers moving in gentle, teasing motions that made her back bow off the bed. Just when she thought she might go mad with want, Gale slid one long finger inside of her. She groaned at the sensation, his movements only making her want more. Gale kissed her softly as he pushed another finger inside, stretching her walls and making her keen as his thumb drew tight circles on the bud just above her entrance.
Madge felt her body wind tighter and tighter as his movements became more and more deliberate. Wave after wave of pleasure shot through her and she thrashed underneath him, both exhausted and desperate for more. He grinned at her then, the pleased, happy grin of a man who had just made his wife very happy. Gale moved on top of her and bracketed his arms around her head, supporting his weight. Her legs parted to cradle him between her hips. She could feel him at her entrance and once more he looked her in the eyes and asked if she was sure. In response she grasped his backside and guided him inside.
Gale moved slowly, his arms trembling with the effort. Inch by inch he pushed into her, letting her adjust to him. He was bigger than his fingers, and while it was uncomfortable at first, he distracted her with kisses until she no longer noticed the pain, only the want. Madge moved first, drawing him closer and gasping as he pulled out slightly, only to push back in again. His sinuous movements spurred her on, and she dug her nails into his back to urge him on and keep him close. She relished the feeling, and as his hips sped up and his breathing became more and more uneven, she clenched down around him to pull him to his peak. She felt his release at her very core, and the rush of power that came with it was intoxicating.
Gale rolled to his side and cupped her cheek in his hands, kissing her softly. “I love you,” he whispered.
Madge kissed him back. “I know.” She grinned against his lips. “I love you too.”
The rest of Effie’s visit was pure torture—or at least the days were. The nights found them excitedly exploring each other’s bodies, eager to learn every single inch, every sound, every movement. When Effie and her companions finally took their leave, Gale and Madge retired to her chambers for two straight days, not even leaving for meals.
It was perfect. Madge loved her husband, no matter how they came to be married. They had built something together; something good, something lasting. She should have known better than to trust in the future.
Two weeks after Effie left, they were lazing in bed. Gale kept trying to get up, but Madge kept convincing him to stay. Gale had just rolled out of bed and pulled his breeches on and leaned over to kiss her one last time when they heard a scuffle in the hallway and the door burst open. In poured five armed men, followed by no less than King Snow himself.
Gale whirled around as soon as the door opened, but the guards surrounded them before he could move. Gale placed himself in front of her, shielding her from the intruders as Madge sat up and clutched the blankets to her bare chest.
Snow clapped drily. “Wonderful performance, my dear. Thank you.” Madge was bewildered. Gale stayed between her and the king’s men, his shoulders tense and fists clenched. Snow motioned to his men—a slight hand wave, as if he was gesturing for the salt at the dinner table—and three lunged forward at Gale.
Gale tried to fight them, but it was three heavily armored men against one man in nothing but his breeches. The scuffle was short but fierce. In the end, Gale was held by his arms between two of the men, his mouth bleeding and his eye already swelling as the third struck him in the stomach with a mailed fist. Madge screamed, begged for them to stop, but Snow and his men were deaf to her cries.
Madge was shaking by the time they finished and Gale hung between them, hardly conscious. Once again, Snow addressed her. “Thank you, my dear. I knew you would be able to get him to trust you, although I hardly think this”—again, the halfhearted wave towards the disheveled bed—“was completely necessary. But those letters proved most helpful in identifying the rebels; the kingdom is indebted to your service.”
Gale turned his head—slow, painful movement. It took Madge a moment to realize what Snow was implying, but once she did she started screaming again, this time to Gale, to try and convince him not to believe Snow. But Snow’s men dragged him out before he responded. Terrified, Madge stared up at Snow. “Get dressed,” he ordered. “My men will escort you to the carriage.”
Madge dressed herself shakily before the guards grabbed her roughly by the elbows and pulled her down the stairs. At the bottom she saw a bruised and battered Delly standing helplessly behind a row of guards. Rooba was there too, her daughter peeking out from behind her skirts. A stab of pain went through Madge—if she and Gale were executed for treason, there would be no one to protect her servants, just like Gale predicted.
The guards threw her into a carriage. Gale must have been in the dark wagon with no windows—she couldn’t see him anywhere, but Snow would want to make a spectacle out of them. He would still be alive, at least for as long as it took to make it back to the castle.
The two redheaded servants entered the carriage as well—the avox looked sad, but the sly one wore a look of triumph. It had been her, Madge realized, who turned over the letters. She pondered what had taken so long for Snow to come down on them. Weeks had passed since she saw those letters and ran heedlessly out of the manor. She’d assumed Gale had retrieved them, but in the confusion of her illness they must have been left unattended.
Madge cursed herself for her mistake, and with every jolt of the carriage she knew she was drawing closer to her doom—hers, and Gale’s. She wondered if Snow would kill them together, or if he’d make her watch.
He would probably make her watch.
Madge was beyond tears by the time they reached the castle courtyard. They opened the windowless wagon first, and she saw Gale dumped unceremoniously on the ground. She took her chance and threw open the carriage door. Madge bolted across the courtyard but the guards caught her before she reached him. She screeched his name and thought she saw his head turn, but then her vision went blurry at the edges as Snow backhanded her. His ring caught her lip and she tasted blood. Gale picked himself up and took two steps toward her, but the guards grabbed the chains that bound his fists and ankles and sank several punches into his stomach and side.
Madge screamed for him again, but no one took any notice. Gale was dragged—still fighting—from the courtyard as her captors pulled her inside. She was sent, to her surprise, not to the dungeons with Gale, but to a sparsely-appointed room. Madge was locked inside and left with her grief.
Later that day she heard the lock scrape and the door swung inward. Snow walked in, unarmed and unguarded. Madge wished she had a knife, or even a sharp piece of glass, but the room was devoid of anything she could turn into a weapon. He stood a safe distance from her and smiled cruelly. “Thank you for your service, Lady Undersee.”
“Hawthorne,” she snarled.
Snow’s smile became amused. “No no, that won’t do. I can’t have you carrying the name of a traitor. Your marriage will be annulled once young Lord Hawthorne is…disposed of. You’ll make a lovely prize for Lord Crane. He thought you might have been indifferent to Lord Hawthorne and would welcome the end of your marriage, but his error in judgment is minor compared to uncovering the rebellion.”
Madge’s heart turned to ice. She had thought she would be executed alongside Gale, and her only comfort was even if Snow killed Gale first, she wouldn’t have long to live with her pain.
Snow’s smile grew as he saw her grasp his plan. “Oh yes, my dear. Your husband will be executed tomorrow, along with his delightful companions Lord and Lady Mellark. But you are to be my warning.”
“Warning?” Her voice trembled.
“If I executed you all, why, think of the melodramatic tragedy those more romantic members of my court would make of it. But with you as a living reminder, they will have less incentive. Three rebels betrayed by a scorned woman is far less likely to inspire more rebellion. I had thought you might be relieved to be free of your wedding vows, but it makes no matter. They will go to their deaths thinking you betrayed them all.” Madge opened her mouth to protest—to tell him she’d scream her innocence to the heavens—but he continued. “And if you so much as clear your throat during the sentencing or execution, I can promise you, their deaths will be long and painful. Particularly your husband’s.”
Madge sank to the floor, totally defeated. Snow must have left and time must have passed, because all too soon she was summoned to the throne room. She braced herself as she was escorted in, but there were no executioners in sight—this was only the sentencing.
Peeta and Katniss entered first, chained and bruised. Peeta’s hands fluttered, as if he was reaching for his wife, but the guards separated them. They kept their eyes trained forward, their faces expressionless as though they were lambs to the slaughter.
Gale had to be carried in. He hung limp between the guards, his back a bloody mess. He’d been flogged. For what, she didn’t know. Maybe for his defiance, maybe just for Snow’s amusement. Madge felt as though she was being sentenced too, as Snow loudly proclaimed that the three traitors would die the next morning at sunrise.
Gale was dragged out—he never once looked at her. Madge was returned to her room and left alone. She searched for a way out, for a weapon, for anything, but Snow was one step ahead of her. She curled into a corner and hugged her knees to her chest, wondering how she would survive this. Or if she even wanted to.
The door creaked open but Madge didn’t look up. It was probably her guards with another meal she wouldn’t be able to eat. A gentle hand on her shoulder made her startle.
It was the avox. Her eyes were sad and sympathetic as she handed Madge a thick dark cloak. Madge looked at her, bewildered, but the avox took her hand and tugged to her to the door. Madge knew it was practically suicide, but she did it anyway. She threw the dark cloak on and set off down the hall on the avox’s heels, running as lightly as she could. The stairs were entirely empty—whatever the avox had done to clear their way, it worked. They dashed to the servants quarters and the avox motioned her out a small side door and held it open. Madge started to run, assuming the avox would follow her, but the soft click of the door told her the avox was staying behind. Madge’s heart was in her throat the entire time, but she saw no hint of people until she was well outside the back gate, running hard.
She heard the horses before she saw them. She saw Delly first, her curly blonde hair glowing in the moonlight. Thom stood next to her, holding the reigns to three horses. The Mellarks were on one, Peeta slumped and pale. Gale sat rigidly on another horse, his face a puffy mess of bruises and scratches. She took comfort in the fact that he was sitting under his own power, but the way he avoided her gaze made her heart sank. He believed Snow—he thought she’d betrayed him.
“Hurry,” Delly hissed, pushing her towards Gale’s horse. Clumsily, she pulled herself up in front of Gale, careful not to jostle him to much. Thom clucked and the horses started forward at a brisk canter. Madge wanted to scream that they needed to gallop, but Peeta and Katniss seemed to be barely hanging on. Madge held the reigns to their horse, Gale’s arms lightly around her waist. He had yet to even acknowledge her. An hour into their journey Delly and Thom fell into step beside them and Delly filled her in on the rebel allies in the castle that helped them all escape—they were headed back to the woods to gather the Everdeens and Hawthornes and then on to neighboring Treize for safety.
A grey line spread across the horizon before they stopped to water the horses. Madge climbed down stiffly and Gale followed. Katniss helped Peeta to lean against a tree and curled up against him. Thom took the reigns and lead the horses to the stream, their hooves breaking through the thin crust of ice and snow on the ground. Madge tugged Gale aside. “Gale, you—you have to understand. I didn’t give him those letters. I would never—“ Gale shook his head and walked away. “Gale, please,” she begged.
He turned around, wincing as the motion pulled at his back. “I know. I know it wasn’t you. I never believed that,” he said dully and turned away from her.
“Then why won’t you even look at me?”
“Because,” he growled, turning back. “I promised to protect you. I failed.” He stepped closer, reached out and brushed his fingers over the bruise on her jaw, the split on her lip. “You were hurt because of me,” he said more softly. “I can’t forgive myself.”
Madge caught his hand and held it against her cheek. “Gale, it’s—this isn’t your fault. And I’m all right. We’re both all right. We’re safe.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him softly, too aware of their injuries. Gale took a deep breath and pinned his forehead against hers. He didn’t respond, but his eyes lost a little of their haunted look.
Thom approached and told them they had to keep moving. They gingerly remounted, but this time Gale’s arms weren’t tentative in their grip of her waist. He nuzzled his nose just behind her ear, breathing deeply. He murmured his apologies the rest of the ride and she assured him over and over again that it wasn’t his fault. The sky brightened as they left Panem behind them, headed to a new life—a life where they could choose each other freely.
A life where they did.
One Year Later
Madge stood in the doorway, drinking in the fresh spring morning. Their home in Treize was much smaller and more rustic than her family’s manor in Panem, but it was theirs and it was free of the dark memories that had haunted their old home. Snow was still in power, but they had found support for their nascent uprising here in Treize. They were working behind the scenes, trying to move pieces into place so that when the rebellion did come, Snow wouldn’t stand a chance. Things weren’t perfect, but they were safe.
And she had Gale. She saw him emerging from the woods behind their home, tiny blue flowers clutched in his fist. Gale broke into a wide grin when he saw her, that same smile that had stopped her heart those first few months. He drew her close, snaking his arms around her waist. “Morning, wife,” he murmured against her lips as he kissed her.
“Morning, husband,” she returned playfully, nibbling on his lower lip. He liked that, she had learned, amongst a great many other things.
Gale also liked lifting her into his arms and setting her on the table, rucking her skirts up and sheathing himself inside of her. Madge liked that too—so much that she had ceased wearing her drawers most days—almost as much as she liked taking him in her mouth and working him to release. Of course, as much as she enjoyed that, it didn’t compare to when he would stretch her out over their bed and lap at her entrance until she screamed.
This morning Madge was impatient, however, so she took the forget-me-nots from his hand and laid them on the sideboard. She boosted herself on the table and opened her legs, sending him a dark look and a smirk at the same time. Gale understood and stepped between her knees, kissing her hard. He slipped two fingers inside of her, testing, and moaned softly when he found how wet she was. Gale unlaced his breeches and drew himself out, already hard with need. Madge pulled him close and leaned back as he thrust inside her, swallowing his moan with a kiss. He set a punishing rhythm, pushing deep inside of her and then pulling almost all the way out, driving her out of her mind with want. Gale pinned his hand between them, teasing her to her peak before letting go himself. Madge cupped his face in her hands, kissing him deeply as his hands squeezed her waist.
Nothing was the way she thought it would be on the day she married a man she’d never even met.
It was better.