#after all that nonsense he needs his leisurely solace

[gemkun]

      ⸻       he   is   relishing   in   the   water   that   cleanses   impurity   ,   absolving   him   of   the   disquietude   sullying   his   mind.

[rainsongdean]

you’re always golden to me

post-mockingjay / pre-epilogue everlark healing together, appreciating the sunset, and maybe even falling in love

"We should head back before it gets dark." Peeta's words rang out in the open air between them, but they were not enough to pull Katniss from her trance-like state.

It had been a rough day. Not enough so to be classified as a bad day, seeing as Katniss had found the motivation to move from the bed to the couch at some point in the afternoon. Now, though, watching the clouds paint watercolors in the sky seemed to bring her back to life. She was encapsulated by the sight.

"Not yet," she eventually spoke, her voice somewhat hoarse from not using it for a while. "I want to stay until it's over. Besides, we could walk home blindfolded from here."

It was true. Katniss had discovered the hill nestled in the woods behind Victor's Village not long after returning from the Capitol. She found solace in being embraced by the wilderness rather than being suffocated in her old home, so when she accidentally stumbled upon the tall mount that overlooked the wide plains and open sky, she knew she had found what she had subconsciously been searching for.

It had taken a few months before she brought Peeta to her secret spot. He'd only returned to District 12 a few days before she had found the hill, and they both needed some time to warm up to each other again. But one day, after suffering through a particularly vivid flashback that ended with him handcuffed to one of Haymitch's spare cages for his geese, Katniss figured it would do them both good to escape into the forest for a while.

That was the first night they watched the sunset from the hill. It had been slightly uncomfortable, sitting inches apart on the dewy grass, no attempt at conversation made by either party. Eventually, Peeta suggested they return home to make dinner before it got too late, but Katniss insisted that she could tell by the shape of the clouds that they would put on an impressive show.

As usual, she was not wrong.

It was the most vibrant spectacle either of them had seen - far more breathtaking than any Capitol party or fireworks display. Sure, they had both watched the sun go down in 12 before, but their view had always been clouded by the thick layer of dust in the air from the mines or obstructed by the cluster of buildings stacked practically on top of one another. Here on their hill, nothing stood between them and the sky. Beyond that, the best part was they got to share it together, just the two of them. 

Since that night, the pair made an effort to hike the two-mile trek to the hill at least once a week, though they typically found themselves there more often than that. Katniss still liked to visit the spot alone, sometimes using the safe space to speak aloud to Prim or Finnick and imagine what they would say back. Other times she just enjoyed the silence.

Peeta, too, ventured to the hill a few times by himself. He had tried on several occasions to paint the landscape, and while he was able to perfect the morning glow and mid-afternoon sun, he couldn't capture the colors of nightfall that he most desired to paint.

Despite the significance that the holy ground held for each of them individually, neither one could deny that they preferred to visit the hill together. Katniss had been unofficially living with Peeta for weeks now, and they even shared a bed most nights, but there was a different breed of intimacy that came with being in the woods, nestled in their own little corner of the universe. 

"Fine," Peeta sighed contentedly, breaking the silence again. "We can stay as long as you'd like." With that, he leaned toward the picnic basket they had brought and reached in, shoving aside the empty containers that once held a selection of berries, cheeses, and breads to reveal a neatly folded fleece blanket he had stashed in the bottom. "I came prepared," he announced with a sense of pride.

Katniss briefly pulled her gaze from the view for the first time since the sun had begun its descent to offer Peeta a small smile of gratitude. The gesture warmed his heart with the blaze of ten thousand sunsets.

Taking care to wrap the soft cover around their legs, Peeta pulled the fabric up to their chests and then eased his back to the ground until he was laying horizontal on the hill. Katniss followed suit so they were both engulfed by the blanket.

Their new angle only served to better showcase the colors stretching endlessly above them. One hue in particular transported Katniss back to a seemingly ancient memory of the two of them.

"Orange. Muted... like a sunset." Katniss didn't break her eye contact with the sky but smirked to herself as she spoke.

Peeta nudged her shoulder playfully in response, easily picking up on what she was referring to. Their conversation on the train about favorite colors was one of the first to come back to him after he had been rescued from the Capitol. Shifting slightly toward Katniss, he reached out and twisted his finger gently around a stray strand of hair that had escaped from her braid. "You're so poetic when you quote me," he mused sarcastically.

"Well, your choice of favorite color is much more poetic than Effie’s choice of wig," she quipped. It was ironic how some of her and Peeta's best conversations had happened in the midst of some of the worst times of their lives. And yet, there they were: safe and relatively happy, just two kids trying to piece themselves back together with some pastel paints, cheese buns, and hidden hills. It may not have been anything profound, but it was living, and Katniss figured that, for time being, that would be enough.

She inhaled deeply, trying to absorb the moment. They had reached the peak of the sunset when every particle in the air seemed to glisten from the giant star's final attempt to remain on the topside of the world. There was only one word to describe it.

"Everything is golden."

And, for an instant, it was.

But as the sun succumbed to the pull of dusk, the raging reds and oranges that had scorched the sky swiftly turned to delicate pinks and purples, paving the way for the black of night.

It was then that Katniss realized Peeta had been uncharacteristically quiet, his sunset commentary usually being much more prolific than hers. When she turned her head to the left to face him, she found he was already staring back at her, still toying with her hair. His deep blue eyes twinkled like he knew a secret and was about to let her in on it.

When they first met, that kind of look from Peeta overwhelmed her. Sometimes Katniss would catch him staring at her like she carried the world in her hands, or spun threads of gold with her words. It puzzled her, annoyed her, and at times even enraged her. But after his hijacking, it had been so rare for that young, innocent Peeta to reappear and give her that look which spelled out his love for her so plainly on his face, and she had grown to cherish it.

"I change my mind." For the third time that night, Peeta's voice sliced open the veil of silence that covered them. 

Katniss abruptly rose to a sitting position, an expression of confusion clouding her face as she leaned over Peeta's resting form. "What do you mean?"

"I change my mind," He repeated calmly, shrugging as if the answer to her question was obvious. "The sunset isn't my favorite shade of orange anymore."

Katniss bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows, causing the wrinkles on her forehead to deepen. Peeta could tell she was trying to keep herself from challenging him, so he decided not to torture her any longer.

"You are my favorite shade of orange," he reached his hand up to caress her cheek, easing away the signs of worry that had risen on her face. "You, sitting here with the sun reflecting in your eyes, your skin glowing in the light." He lowered his voice to a whisper and retracted his hand, slowly guiding Katniss's head to rest on his chest so she could hear his heart beating. "The way you make me feel like I'm on fire inside, all the time."

Girl on fire. The words echoed in his mind and, although he did not dare speak them, he internally admitted they rang true. And it was in moments like those, as he held her under the night sky with millions of stars blazing above them, that he saw Katniss burn the brightest.

"Oh, shut up," she exhaled, turning away from him in an attempt to conceal the blush that had overtaken her smiling face, but Peeta didn't have to see it to know it was there. "You're so cheesy."

"Hey now," he feigned a hurt expression, "I thought you liked my cheese."

Katniss couldn't hide her outburst at his nonsense and they both fell into a fit of laughter together. They hadn't spoken much about what exactly their relationship status was at the moment, hesitant to put labels on anything, but he still wanted her to know how he felt about her. And while Katniss had never been proficient in using her words to convey her love, the way that she clung to Peeta, burying her head in his arm while gasping to regain her breath from laughing so hard, told him everything he needed to know.

"Come on, we should really head back before Haymitch gets worried." Peeta attempted once again to persuade Katniss to return home after they had both calmed down. His stomach was beginning to growl - the small rations of their picnic earlier weren't nearly enough to tide over his appetite until morning - and now that the sun had set, he'd much rather snuggle up with Katniss on their couch than on the cold, hard ground. And besides, while he didn't really think their mentor would be waiting up for them, he figured the argument might be enough to persuade her.

"Seeing as it's past 3 p.m., I think it's safe to say that Haymitch is passed out on his couch," Katniss countered, but her actions said otherwise as she began to gather herself up off the ground. Peeta knew she had a soft spot for the old man.

It took them a little over half an hour to walk home, leisurely following the path that their own footprints had created over time. Upon entering the house, Peeta made a beeline to the kitchen to heat up some leftover stew from the night before. While he ate, Katniss headed to Haymitch's house, opening the unlocked door to find him asleep in his living room as she had predicted. She pried the half-empty bottle from the arm that hung off the couch and set it on a nearby table before turning the lights out and closing his front door behind her.

She had recently made a habit of checking in on her friend, especially during the weeks when Effie travelled back to the Capitol for work. She knew he had done the same for her countless times. Haymitch never seemed to question why he would sometimes wake up with a blanket draped over him or a pillow propped beneath his head, and Katniss didn't plan on bringing it up. Like most things between the two of them, it went unsaid.

Later that evening, tucked under the covers of Peeta's bed - their bed - Katniss felt more at ease than she did most nights. Maybe it was the serenity of the particularly striking sunset, or maybe it was Peeta's roundabout confession of the feelings he still had for her. Either way, she was pleasantly content. 

On the other side of the mattress, as Peeta danced on the cusp of sleep, his mind dragged him back to something Katniss had said on the hill. Everything is golden. He knew what she meant; that the landscape had been blanketed by the radiance of the sunset. But he felt it was true in another sense, and that maybe this new phrase was an even more appropriate way to describe the true essence of Katniss Everdeen.

Before drifting off herself, Katniss heard Peeta mumble one last line of admiration, causing her to fall asleep with a smile ingrained on her lips.

"You're always golden to me."

[poweredbycoffeeandwine]

Snapshots from Haven

 Elina Trevelyan x Cullen Rutherford - Pre-relationship - DA Inquisition AU. Here lies all the fluff, and a mabari named Atticus, because I can.

Atticus grumped at the front door; his owner sat, coffee cup in hand, small half smirk on his lips as he observed.  The usually stoic, no-nonsense mabari had begun a strange new ritual of pacing, leash in mouth, at a new time of day. Cullen Rutherford made a career as a soldier, and his personal life mirrored that militant style. He had never questioned the need for structure and schedules, even at his leisure things were done according to plan. What was surprising, however, was noticing the aberration in his faithful companion. They were much alike; his four-legged friend and he. He thrived on on routine, and always questioned changes with his massive head cocked to one side. Cullen found it  strange to remember a time when he didn’t have his loyal mabari. Old memories had faded from agonizing to a dull ache.

The choice to leave the military had not been an easy one, but the PTSD and the daily battles it caused had made the decision obvious. Coming home to his brothers and sisters, broken, battle wary and heartsore, was almost too much. They had suffered at the unexpected death of their parents, but they had moved past it, healed by mutual love and affection; grown beautifully despite trials and hardships. He never wanted to bring that taint to them.

He almost fled into the night. No reasons, no goodbyes. It had been a magical Santinalia holiday. One he hadn’t thought to experience again. He had felt like such an outsider - a guest, apart from the brilliant light his siblings and their families had created. Watching the glowing faces of his siblings, as they exchanged presents, his infant niece sleeping in the arms of his sister looking fragile and at peace. The shame inside him clawed it’s way up and made him feel like a charlatan. Someone pretending to be Cullen. Holding all of his belongings in a couple of suitcases, creeping down the stairs of his sister’s home, he made out her figure sitting on the bottom step. Mia had known, because of course she had, and was waiting for his escape.

Her warm hazel eyes held no pity or disappointment, only sadness and maybe a hint of anger. She didn’t yell at or judge him, she only held out her arms. In that moment she reminded him so much of his mother; her grace and unconditional love. He took solace in her, and explained his demons as well as he could. Everything laid bare for her to examine. They cried together - for innocence lost, for him, for her, and when the sun peaked into the window with the dawn, he agreed to stay.

His sister suggested he consider meeting a counselor and perhaps find a therapy dog to help him cope. He promised to give thought to the therapist, but readily agreed to seek an animal. Atticus had become more than Cullen could have hoped for. He had saved him, he was family, a constant companion and best friend. Nearly two years had passed since that night, and he could not be more pleased with the life he had created. He still had hard days, and likely always would, but he was content. A comfortable home, his siblings, a few close friends, and a job he enjoyed were things he wouldn’t have dreamed for himself just a short time ago.

Cullen had rarely taken time from work, and that is why he was at home on a Tuesday morning, sipping on his second mug of coffee. Cassandra, his partner at the precinct and friend, essentially forced him to take some leave. He knew when to pick his battles, this was one he wouldn’t win. He usually could not sleep past 4, and after a light meal he took Atticus for his walk. Early morning had always been his favorite time of day. There was a freshness to the world, it was undisturbed and it reminded him that everyday he could choose to start again. To leave his ghosts behind. This morning had been no different, there had been a light storm customary with the changing of Summer to Fall. The weather had shortened their walk, but even over the last couple of days when their time was uninterrupted, Atticus hovered at the door at 8 o’clock.

“Well, boy,” he said, clearing his throat, “did you not get enough outside time?”. As he picked up the newspaper to see what reaction he would get; he chuckled at the annoyed huff the dog gave. It turned into a full laugh when he tossed the leash at his feet, and placed his paw on his knee. “All right, I suppose we could go out again.” Atticus sprang up from the ground with a happy bark. He gave the leash to his master and sat dutifully while it was attached to his collar. Cullen grabbed his umbrella and stepped out into the crisp autumn air.

Haven was a quiet tourist town full of picturesque shops and spas, and he had grown quite fond of it. Atticus’ favorite path lead them near downtown towards the bakery. The owner, Flissa, always had a small treat just for his pet. Cullen allowed the adoration and the tiny cookie because… how could he say no to the charming animal? They continued past the coffee/book shop towards the small side street that led to their favorite haunt. There was a park, with flowers, trees, and a pond. Atticus was too well trained to chase the ducks and other birds, but Cullen could tell there were days his puppy side surfaced and he wanted to.

The light drizzle of rain had begun again. It was the kind of rain that didn’t bother short term, but Cullen opened his umbrella since he was walking based on Atticus’ whim. Reaching their turn, his pet began to pull them forward and across the street. The mabari hardly ventured that direction, but he allowed him to lead on. Once they reached the opposite side he made a great show of examining a fire hydrant in front a a pretty shop, “Snapshots from Haven” the sign above the window read.. Cullen, in turn, looked at the display in the large window.

Deep greens, rich browns, blues and gold blended; creating a painstaking whimsical forest scene. Various pictures were showcased amongst the trees. A series of loving couples, weddings, newborn babies, young girls in tutus twirling across glossy and matte prints. At the center was a beautiful portrait of a familiar dog beneath a large tree, leaves of different colors falling gracefully around him. In the background there were birds touching down in the pond. What startled him most was the solitary man standing nearby. He recognized himself, and it looked as though he was waiting for something. His profile staring off into the distance. It was eerie just how life like the picture seemed.

He started at the sound of a tiny cough from just behind him. He turned and found himself looking into the deep chocolate eyes of a woman he was sure he’d never seen before. “It’s a great shot, isn’t it?” Her voice was soft and sweet, “Never thought I would meet the subjects of my favorite photo. Hope you don’t mind?” She looked slightly nervous, as if he would be upset at the invasion of his privacy.

He was openly staring. The woman was striking. Her raven hair was pulled into a ponytail, small fly-aways framing her face. Her lips stretched into the most breathtaking smile ever directed at him.  She was also absolutely soaked. “Yes, of course. I mean no. I have no problem with it. I only wish I’d seen it sooner.” He took a step closer, telling himself it was to give her some measure of protection from the drops of rain misting from above. “Do you own this shop?”

“Um, yeah, I opened it about six months ago. Last year I was here to photograph a friends’ wedding.  After I left I couldn’t get this place out of my mind. I packed up my studio in Ostwick, and here I am.” Cullen couldn’t help but notice how prettily she blushed.

“You’re beautiful….I mean your work. It’s beautiful.” Cullen stammered, turning red, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, should let you get on your way. Rain and all, is wet, you’re wet.”

She laughed, a wonderful tinkling sound that he would love to hear again. “I don’t mind the rain. In fact, I was going to grab a cup of coffee and call it quits for the day. Perks of being the boss. I’d love the company if you and your handsome companion would be so kind?” She motioned towards Atticus. His dog was sitting perfectly still, a knowing look in his intelligent eyes. The only movement was a nearly imperceptible wag of his stubby tail. “My what a good boy you are, so perfect and agreeable.” She fell to her knees in front of him, paying no mind to the puddle on the sidewalk continuing to coo and praise him, leggings and boots suffering.

Maker preserve him, but if she carried on that way, he knew he was in trouble. “We would certainly join you for coffee. I’m Cullen, and this is Atticus. Mind you, he will let all of those compliments go to his head, and there will be no living with him.” He held out his hand to help her stand, and he swore his heart skipped a beat or two when she took it.

“Lovely to meet you both. I’m Elina Trevelyan.” She replied, mischief sparkling in her eyes. She tucked her hand into the arm he offered with a smile. “I see where he gets his impeccable manners from.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, perhaps it is the company that inspires us,” he managed with a great deal more blushing. The rain ceased shortly after reaching the shop, so they decided to sit outside at a table that had escaped most of the water. They sat and talked for hours about books, movies, and favorite locations around Haven.

“You haven’t been up the peak to the waterfall yet? I honestly can’t believe it. I’d bet you could get some beautiful photos there.”

Her lips quirked off to the side as she replied, and Cullen was transfixed by them, “No, I haven’t been able to go. Sara warned me not to make the trip alone, and she and Dagna have been too busy to take me. I am hoping they will agree to it soon before the snows come.”

A far off look in her eyes had him opening his mouth against his better judgement, “Atticus and I could take you. I’m on vacation from work. It really would be no trouble, and I’ve been meaning to go.”

She squealed, grasping his bicep with both hands hugging his arm, “Really?? Cullen that would be amazing!”

“Sure, we can go whenever you are available, I really have no other plans.”

“Can we go Friday? I have a few sessions and editing to complete over the next few days.”

Cullen fighting a smile threatening to overtake his entire face answered, “Yes, that works. Do you want to meet here, or should I pick you up at your studio?”

Elina beamed back at him, and grabbed for his hand. “I don’t have any of my cards with me, so this will have to do.” With a final flourish, she returned his hand to him, and stood. “I’ll see you Friday, Cullen.” She tossed a wink at him, collected her bag, and walked away.

He looked down, dumbstruck. On his palm she had written her name, number, and the small message, “I can’t wait.”  It felt like high school, but he couldn’t help feeling giddy. With his other hand, careful not to smudge her neat flowing message he knelt and gave Atticus a pat. “Don’t think I am clueless about what you’ve done.” He pretended to scold, “Well, what do you think, boy? Do I have a chance?” The mabari gave him a doggy grin, and licked his cheek. They walked home together, Cullen, for once, pleased for deviating from a schedule.