𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨

── the milking parlour

          𝔅eing inside of the milking parlour had always calmed me ever since I was a young girl. It was something about being surrounded by the cows, all softly mooing, the warmth and even the smell, though others would strongly disagree with me. It kept me at peace, even more so now than ever before. The arena had changed me, causing me to jump at loud noises and wince whenever I heard shouting, but the milking parlour was always my safe place.

The younger heifer mooed softly from up near my head, and I turned to pat the cow on her flank. Her large ears flickered as I smiled and pulled my stool towards me. Setting the bucket down beneath her udders, I began to work as the dun coloured cow chewed on her cud gently. I went through the repetitive motions, not allowing my thoughts to drift back to earlier times, such as the games.

The milking parlour was my home. It was a place for me to escape my thoughts, and it always would be. The games were a dark time, and my stomach still ached at the thought of it all. The wound was still a present issue weighing on my mind, despite it being nonexistent, thanks to the Capitol. The person who caused it was still in my nightmares, and I often pondered the what ifs of how it had happened.

"Good girlie." I muttered, standing up to press a kiss to the cow's large head, rubbing her nose as she attempted to lick the salt off my hand. I grinned, before placing the milk away and shooing her out of the shed. "Go on, out you go."

The dawn light filtered in through the gate as I herded her out and into the fog. The breeze was brisk, reminding me that it was winter as I went inside to grab the milk and tip it into a large pail. Whistling, I called my cattle dogs to my side.

"Come by." My two herding dogs rushed past me, leading the large herd of 300 cows towards the upper field. "Casper, walk up. Walk up! Mick, sit."

Casper was the older of my two dogs, a large black and tan dog that was used for the cattle whilst Mick was still learning the tricks of the trade. The younger dog wasn't going to be used for the more complicated manoeuvres any time soon, but he was a good help.

"Good boys. Mick, away from me." The smaller dog raced around Casper to push the cows back into line and into the top field. "Casper, wait. Mick, walk up!"

I tapped the ground beside me as the remaining cattle went out of the gate and into the field. I would see them later on to do the final milking of the day as I whistled for both dogs to come back. Closing the gate softly, I double checked that it was closed.

"Atta boys!" I reached down, ruffling the two dogs fur as they panted happily and trotted down the path to the milking parlour with me. 

You would think, with it having been months since I had left the arena, I would be getting better with loud noises but I didn't think I truly was. I didn't know how to. There wasn't a manual, or someone there to help me with trying to regain my mind once more. Most of the victors shut themselves off as soon as they returned from the Capitol, unwilling to talk to others and dredge up memories of it all.

Setting the stick aside, I unclipped my overalls and tied them around my waist before stretching out my aching muscles. Wincing, I twisted my back out, that was hurting from being hunched over for the past few hours.

At that moment, I doubted I looked anything like the Capitol's 'Golden Girl'. My hair was a mess, frizzy from the heat of the milking parlour. My arms are covered in mud and who knows what, and I was sure that I stink to the high heavens. But, it's times like these that I feel the most like Mitzi Kennedy, despite it not fitting my position as Victor.

"I was wondering where you had disappeared off to." As I entered the milking parlour once more, I found Cato Hadley leaning over the gate at the back of the long shed. He did look like the victor that there should have been from the 74th Hunger Games, dressed in a long trench coat, his hair styled and face clean. "I thought you had the day off?"

"I woke up early. Wanted to help out and see my girls." I smiled, as Cato crouched down to make a fuss of the two cattle dogs that had slipped through the gate to go and see him.

"Hello you two." A grin found its way onto Cato's face, stroking the two large dogs. "Have you been good?"

"They've been perfect. Mick's learning very well now." I leant over the gate, looking down at the District 2 victor.

"Is he?"

"Yeah." Cato glanced up, a small smile forming on his face. Despite the coldness of his blue eyes, I had never once felt afraid of Cato. Not truly at least. He was trying to cope with the arena, just as I was, and the walls were a mechanism.

Just like me, Cato had never been taught to cope with the memories that came with the aftermath. Despite being raised to be a victor, he had been unaware of the feelings that came with it; the overwhelming guilt, the self-loathing and the memories of those lives that you had taken.

"Morning." Cato finally stood up, leaning over the gate to press a soft kiss to my lips. I smiled, not wanting to touch him with my dirty hands and ruin his clean clothes. "I was hoping to wake up beside you today."

"'M sorry." I muttered, standing on my tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips in apology. "We can go home and go back to sleep?"

"That's tempting." Cato smiled, before opening the gate for me. I reached down, picking up the two milk pails and walking them down to where the milk was stored until it needed to be shipped out. "How are your girls?"

"They're all happy." I nodded, before smiling. "Your favourite cow is doing well. I've just sent her out into the pasture."

"I'm glad." Cato smiled at that, opening the next gate for me. His finer clothes looked out of place on the family farm, and besides my overalls and waterproof boots. "And you? Are you happy?"

I hummed at the question, before shrugging my shoulders. Cato nodded his head.

We walked in silence with the exception of Cato opening the next door for me to place the milk away. The both of us never felt the need to talk to each other with Cato not naturally being that talkative, and me being happy in silence.

Today was not a good day. We were starting our victory tour later than afternoon, and neither of us wanted to think about it too much. We were going to be seeing the families of the people that we'd killed.

He closed the door softly, before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking beside me. Cato is more silent than he's ever been before, even when we were in the arena. His blond hair is finally growing out of its shorter, fighting style, and into a longer style. I liked it more this way, and Cato did too. It helped him to differentiate between the person in the mirror and the person who'd been in the arena with me. The new hairstyle makes him seem more boyish, a little more carefree, and when he grins and laughs, it fills the room.

Reaching out, I carefully wrapped an arm through his and squeezed gently. The dogs run along in front of us, as we sigh. The next few weeks are going to be long and painful, and most likely going to be bringing up old memories that neither of us wished for.

The walk to the Victor's Village is a short one, especially when we take the shortcut through the fields of my family's farm. Due to the winter cold, the mud had iced over, preventing our feet from sinking too far into the ground. The dogs hop to and fro, shaking their fur out and happily snuffling around in the mud.

We have to hop over a few styles and push through a hedge or two, but eventually we come out into the Victor's Village. It was a separate estate, built away from the hustle of the main part of District 11. There are fifteen houses, with space to build more. In the Career districts, most of these homes will be filled up, but in District 11, only just over half of them are filled.

My mentors from the games, Geare and Jasmine, both have their own homes with their families, along with three other older mentors. There's another two that we've never met, and then Cato and I share the last house.

There's smoke curling from the chimney of our home, yellow light spilling out onto the fog filled courtyard. Ours is the only home with lights in it, as most were still asleep when I went out to do the milking and even three hours later, still there aren't that many others awake. Cato and I are just used to it, as he liked to workout and I liked to work.

"Cas, Mick, come." Technically, neither of the two cattle dogs should have been sleeping in the house, but as well as helping me with the cattle, it was good to have them around. It helped get me and Cato out of the house, and out of bed, on the days when we feel like we can't.

Toeing off my work boots, I set them behind the wood pile in front of the house and hopped from foot to foot as Cato unlocked the door. He had a small smile on his face, before holding the door open for me to rush past and to the fire. I sank to the floor, my feet outstretched as my two dogs joined me and we all grinned happily.

"You should get changed, Mitz." Cato muttered, pulling his coat off and hanging it up. "We've got visitors coming."

"We have?" I paused, turning to look at him over my shoulder. His shoulders were now tensed, looking around cautiously as he searched for threats that weren't there. We weren't truly free unless we were at the farm, or walking to it. We were always worried that they'd be listening through the walls. "Do you know who?"

"No." Cato shook his head, before pulling his jumper off to reveal a smart shirt to match his trousers. "Just get changed."

Reluctantly, I pulled my overalls off, shoving them deep into the depths of our coat cupboard, and pulling other clothes in front of it. I didn't know if the Capitol would be too pleased with seeing that.

I scraped at the mud on my arms, rubbing it off quickly as I peeled the remainder of my clothes from my body and washed swiftly. I needed to mask the smell of the cows, removing it from my hair and pores. It wouldn't be appropriate with guests here.

Matching Cato, I pulled a dark dress from the closet, making sure that the sleeves were long and my tights were warm, when I tugged it on. By the time I'm coming back down the stairs, shuffling along in some shoes and pulling on a cardigan, Cato had cooked some breakfast for the pair of us.

"I think I've managed to mask the smell of the cows." I smiled softly, running a hand across Cato's broad shoulders, before pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His hand came up to grab mine, squeezing it gently.

The both of us were still trying to navigate our own relationship, having only truly started to date soon after coming out of the arena. Even then, we'd had to progress quickly, both of us having to navigate severe PTSD. It didn't help that the entirety of the Capitol was watching both of us, as we'd become their favourite couple. It meant that we always had two personas. Mitzi and Cato, and then the Golden Girl and the Warrior.

"Thank you for making breakfast." Cato hummed, smiling softly. He'd exchanged his sword for a knife since we had returned, taking up cooking when he was stressed or angry. It was less violent that what he'd been trained to do for most of his life. The food was good, and we ate quickly, not bothering to talk as we waited for something to happen, or someone to come and get us.

The dogs snored peacefully at our feet, and I was content in the knowledge that my parents would look after them whilst we were away. Cato was still out of it by the time that he'd finished, washing his plate up quickly, and then mine, his eyes unfocused. I knew that look, knew that it meant he was reliving something from the games.

"Cato..." He hummed, but didn't turn, and I wrapped my arms around the small of his back to hug him. The man squeezed gently, before sighing and wrapping me back into a tight hug, almost as if afraid to let go. "I'm here. You have me. I won't leave your side."

"I don't want to do this."

"I know." I hummed, reaching up to smooth his hair out before letting my hand fall onto his cheek gently. My palm is too small to cradle his head, but he leans into my touch all the same, pressing a gentle kiss to my wrist. "We'll be alright."

Cato lets out a trembling breath, a far cry from the teenager that I had met on a rooftop for the first game. He is softer now, less inclined for violence and more than happy to remain peaceful. It is a complete change, but being forced to kill others will do that to a person. I found that I had become snippier, more prone to anger, so I had steered well clear of most, keeping to my cows and my work. I liked the routine.

Standing on the tops of my toes, I press my head to his, clinging to his warmth as he hums.

"I'm by your side." He mumbles, before kissing my cheek and pulling me even tighter into him. We stay like this until a knock on the door breaks us apart.

"Guests?"

"Guests." Cato confirms, but he doesn't look happy about it. Something had happened, or he had been told something that I had not. I pulled away from him, shooting him one final look, before answering the door.

There, on the doormat, is President Snow.

──⭒─⭑─⭒──

Hiya,

So Cato is here and why he's here will all be explained within the next few chapters. This is just an opening chapter, of sorts, to explain what the pair are up to (ish), to set the scene, to see the milking parlour and the dogs and Cato and Mitzi's relationship.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx