Chapter Text
Mallow has never been so scared about a reaping, and he's not even in the crowd of children anymore.
Laurel stands in the middle of the crowd in a blue dress, her braided hair forming a golden crown on top of her beautiful, albeit strained, face. He's no stranger to seeing her in various stages of stress, but he can usually try and calm her down. There's nothing he can do for her, now.
Seven. That's how many times her name is in the bowl, that's how many chances she has of being reaped. Such a small number, compared to all the girls from the Seam standing around her. He tries to calm his beating heart by reminding himself of that, not caring that the thought makes him selfish and heartless.
He can't live without her. If she were to be reaped right now, he knows he wouldn't be able to simply watch her get taken. What would he do about it? Mallow hasn't slept all night, his mind conjuring all kinds of answers to that particular question.
But for now all he can do is look on as the love of his life stands in the middle of the other candidates, waiting to know if she'll be the one sent to her death this year.
“It's going to be okay, Mal.”
His sister's voice startles him back to reality, and he briefly glances at her.
Her belly is getting rounder, and he doesn't know how to feel about it. Reid, the man she chose to marry, is a good man, no question about it. Hard worker, kind, absolutely head over heels in love with her and willing to take care of the boys. But she's already pregnant again, and that troubles him. The twins aren't even in school yet, and another mouth to feed will only mean leaner winters. But he can keep hunting for them, there's more than enough to go around. And his sister made her choice.
He looks back at Laurel, but takes Clementine's hand in his, hating himself a little bit for acting like a scared little boy. Surprisingly, she doesn't give him any grief about it, she just squeezes his hand.
“I can't lose her.”
“I know. You won't.”
The mayor starts saying the same words as every year, which Mallow tries to tune out.
“You remember when Father would talk about his last reaping?” Clem whispers, actually managing to make him chuckle. An image of his father sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of liquor comes to mind.
“The year he got drunk with Charles Harret in the morning.”
“‘I couldn't even tell you how we got to the square in time…'” Clem says in a vague approximation of their father's tone, and he joins her in the same tone, “‘but I sure as hell remember spilling my guts on the baker's shoes afterwards!’”
They laugh together, and some of the tension in his chest eases. Not much, though.
“What are your plans for today?”
She's clearly trying to distract him, but he doesn't want to. He can't.
“You mean, if I don't have to watch Laurel walk to her death?”
“Yeah.”
“I'm going to ask her to marry me.” Clem doesn't answer, and he knows without looking she's pursed her lips. They already had this particular argument. “I know you don't approve. It won't change my mind.”
“I know it won't. That doesn't mean I'm happy about you being irresponsible.”
“Because I guess getting pregnant two weeks into your new marriage is so responsible?”
He can feel her glaring at him without even looking.
“Oh that is low of you.”
He knows it is. But he can't take another argument about how Laurel will never adapt to living in the Seam. The worst part is that he knows Clementine loves Laurel. They have tea – and stronger drinks – together all the time, and he found them laughing and chatting at his mother's house often enough to know Clem genuinely cares for her. And yet she never changed her mind about this. She sees Laurel as this delicate flower too used to her comfort to accept anything less.
But he knows she's wrong. He's seen Laurel cry in rage against the Capitol, he's seen her hike through the forest to look for her friend's bird, even though she was scared to death and grieving. In the months since they got together, he's seen her try to heal more and more people in the Seam. Some harmless things, kids with scraped knees and runny noses, but other, more gruesome things, too. Broken bones, slashed backs from whippings. Injuries he could barely stomach to look at, she spent hours treating without showing a single sign of struggle.
She's strong, and brave, and she chose him to spend her life with. And he will make sure she wants for nothing. Her, and any of the children they will have together.
If she survives today.
Cassia Heavensbee digs around in the bowl until she grabs a slip of paper and goes back to her microphone.
“Livvy Cobblesmark!”
A fourteen year old girl moves towards the crowd, tears running on her cheeks, and Mallow wants to tear the world apart. Because he's glad. This little girl is going to die in the next few days, and all he can feel is relief.
Laurel is out. She'll never have to stand in this crowd again. They're going to get married, move into a house together, live happily as a family.
But a little girl is still going to her death today.
***
It’s a bit tough, walking towards the bakery without passing in front of Laurel’s parents’ shop. Mallow has to make a detour a few streets south to be sure he doesn’t get seen by her mother.
He went through with his proposal, taking Laurel to the meadow at sunset and offering her a bouquet of wildflowers, asking her to marry him. She cried and she said yes, and their appointment at the courthouse is tomorrow.
He couldn’t have been happier, except Laurel’s mother threw her out the very next day. Laurel showed up at his house after nightfall, with a bag full of clothes as her only possessions. Her mother swore that she had no daughter anymore, and that Laurel was as good as dead to her. He was angrier than he’s ever been when Laurel told him, but she made him promise not to say anything, and he couldn’t resist her sad eyes.
So now here he is, trying his best to ignore the anger that flares in him when he rounds the corner to get to the bakery and takes one look at the apothecary shop. He wants to march over there and tell her mother what he really thinks of her and of her actions towards her daughter. He wants to tell her that life is fleeting, that love is precious, and that she should be able to love her daughter unconditionally because that’s what a parent does.
But he promised Laurel he’d stay out of it, so instead of marching to the apothecary shop, he opens the door to the bakery.
Bannock is the one behind the counter, and Mallow cringes internally.
He likes Bannock, he truly does. He’s very down to earth, nice, thoughtful, funny. They shared some good moments, and Mallow likes to think of him as a friend. But he’s here to buy a specific type of bread, and given the baker’s history with Laurel, he wishes Bannock wasn’t the one selling it to him.
“Hi Mallow,” Bannock gives him a smile, and he forces himself to appear relaxed as he smiles back.
“Hey. You doing okay?”
“I am, thanks for asking. What can I get you?”
Mallow looks around the shop, at the decorated cakes in the front, the simpler loaves of bread he usually buys, until finally his eyes settle on the display of small, fancy loaves.
“I’m looking for…” Well, this is happening, he just has to get the words out. “... for a bread appropriate for a Toasting.”
The next five seconds are the most quiet Mallow has ever experienced, as they just stare at each other. Finally, Bannock smiles at him again, although it’s a bit strained.
“Congratulations.”
Mallow knows they’re both painfully aware of his sadness, but he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, so he smiles in return.
“Thank you.”
“Well, you can never go wrong with the fruit bread, really. We have plum, strawberries, and apricots.”
“Do you have anything with spices? Or nuts, maybe?” Laurel loves walnuts.
“We do, actually! We’ve got this one which is cinnamon and hazelnut, or we have the strawberry loaf with walnuts in them. I'm guessing you want the one with the walnuts?”
Mallow glances at the baker.
“You know her well.”
Bannock just shrugs, but he’s already taking the loaf out of its case and wrapping it in a piece of paper. As he does so, Mallow takes his savings out of his satchel and starts counting coins. This will cost him a lot, but he prepared for the expense, and he won’t start their marriage by denying her this smalle pleasure.
But Bannock shakes his head before he has the time to put the coins on the counter.
“No need. My gift to you. To the both of you.”
And the baker’s smile is genuine this time.
“I – I don’t know what to say.”
“Say that you’ll take care of her. And… say that we’ll all stay friends.”
Mallow grabs the loaf and smiles at Bannock.
“I will. And we will. Definitely.”
***
He’s just walking out of the bakery when he finds Laurel’s father waiting for him outside.
“Mr Alder, I –”
“Come with me.”
And without waiting for an answer, the man turns around and heads for the back alley to his shop. Mallow follows him warily, unsure of what to expect. He promised Laurel he wouldn’t get into a fight with her parents, but he didn’t expect them to actually seek him out.
But when they reach the workshop, Laurel’s mother doesn’t seem to be anywhere around. Mr Alder sits down and shows another chair for Mallow to sit.
“How is she?”
“ Er – She’s good. She’s… settling in.”
“You’re getting married tomorrow, right? I saw the announcement on the courthouse docket.”
“We… We are, yes.”
“That means you’re having your Toasting tonight.” It’s not exactly a question – it’s tradition to do the Toasting before the courthouse – but Mallow nods nonetheless. “I have a gift for her.”
He grabs a wooden box from the counter and gives it to Mallow. He hesitates to open it, pulling up the lid only when her father nods. Inside is a complete tea set, beautiful and almost as good as new.
“It was always her favorite thing around the house. She should have it.”
Mallow closes the lid and looks up at Mr Adler. The man seems tired, and sad.
“You could come to the Toasting, you know. My mother and my sister will be there. I know Laurel would be very happy to see you there.”
Mr Alder sighs.
“It’s not that simple, young man. I might love my daughter, but…” The look he gives him says it all.
“You disapprove of us. Of me. I know.”
“I know you both think you’re doing the right thing, and I know you think you’re capable of taking care of her –”
“Because I am.”
“And maybe you are. But my wife and I have both worked very hard to make sure our daughter had the best life that we could give her. And we’re allowed to be angry to see her throw it all away.”
“So you’d rather never see her again? You’d rather act as if you don’t have a daughter?”
“For now it’s easier if we stay away from each other. Laurel has to understand how we feel. My wife will come around, eventually. Things will resolve themselves”
And Mallow can’t take it anymore. He gets up and grabs the wooden box.
“Things don’t tend to resolve themselves without people putting in some effort, Mr Alder. I’m marrying your daughter tonight, because she’s the love of my life, and I know that I can make her happy. You’re welcome to join us. Have a good afternoon.”
He’s outside before Mr Alder has the time to answer.
***
Her parents don’t come.
He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He didn’t even tell Laurel about inviting her father to join them, not wanting to disappoint her. She cried when he gave her the tea set, and he didn’t want to make her sadder than she already was.
They’re in his mother’s kitchen, crouched together in front of the stove as they watch the bread slowly turn a deep shade of brown. Laurel is wearing her burgundy dress, the one with all the buttons at the front. He’s been thinking about those buttons all evening.
“Mallow, darling, the bread is ready,” his mother whispers a few steps behind them.
He takes a deep breath and opens the door to get the bread out. Laurel hurries to grab the plate and the knife she prepared earlier, and soon he’s putting the toasted bread onto it. She tries to cut the slice of bread in two with a trembling hand, and Mallow can’t resist the urge to wrap his fingers around hers to steady her.
She grins at him, and they cut the bread together.
“Mother, can we have some bread too?” One of his nephews asks Clem, but she just shushes him.
“You can have some later,” Mallow tells him with a brief glance. “This piece is just for us, but we’ll share the rest, okay?”
Terry smiles at him and nods, and he looks back at Laurel. She hands him his half, and speaks.
“I love you, Mallow. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, and to always be by your side, no matter what may befall us.”
“Laurel, I love you, and I promise to love you for the rest of my life. I promise to always be by your side, no matter what may befall us.”
They eat their toasted bread in silence, unable to tear their eyes off each other. Finally, they finish eating, and Mallow pulls her into a kiss.
His mother and Clem cheer, the boys start running around the kitchen excitedly despite their stepdad’s desperate attempt at keeping them in place, but Mallow doesn’t care about any of that. Laurel’s arms circle his neck, he wraps her in his arms, and they keep kissing, relishing in the bliss of their first night as a married couple.
They’ll get their own house tomorrow, and start their life together. They’ll have children eventually, even though they both agree they should wait a few years.
After all, they have all the time in the world.