Chapter Text
"How long did you think I wouldn’t notice?"
Katniss froze, knife still slick in her hand, blood smeared across her jacket. Looking away how it stained her hands. How long had Clove been standing there, just casually in the dark leaning against the tree, arms crossed, no weapon in sight. It didn't mean anything.
"Notice what?”
"Don't play dumb." Clove pushed away from the tree, closing the distance and Katniss' pulse jolted, eyes locked on the other girl, head tilting as Clove circled her once, close enough their bodies brushed.
Trap. Play. She was trying to make Katniss drop her guard.
She knew. Found out. Katniss cleared her throat.
"Enough dallying." Clove was in front of her and in a movement Katniss could barely follow, grasped the collar of her jacket, yanked her down.
She was going to kill her.
With her lips on hers.
Kissed her. Kissed her.
Their teeth clashed; Clove took Katniss’ startled gasp as invitation, tongue pushing in, fierce and hungry. Groaning, arching up against Katniss' body.
Clove’s nails dug lightly into her jaw. Katniss’ hands hovered uselessly before landing, hesitant, on Clove’s hips, unsure, transferring the blood on her hands, not that Clove seemed to care, biting down on her lower lip-
Katniss should start at the beginning. Somewhere, in all that mess, was the reason she now had a Career’s lips on hers.
The beginning was Katniss holding Prim for the first time; leaning back against her father sitting in bed between her parents looking down at that wrinkly, slightly red thing. Her little sister.
Her father had laughed—Prim wouldn’t stop squirming, nearly wriggling free. She was pretty sure she held her for long enough, ready to give her back when her finger was clutched tightly and cloudy blue eyes focused on her. Primrose, her little sister falling silent. Still slightly bloody. Some tufts of dark hair visible. Staring and squirming.
Or perhaps it was later still with Prim, far too small and pale at seven, clutching her coat sleeve as the pool of people behind the hastily made up rope keeping them from the main entrance of the mines became smaller and smaller. Just as the clutches of miners spilling out.
The sirens still howled as snow thickened, the sky iron-grey above them. Loud clear, echoing, nothing as broken and unforgettable as their mother falling apart the moment the mining captain stopped in front of them. Katniss never even heard the words. Eyes settling on the ground were somewhere beneath, her father lay trapped for eternity.
Prim was the start of it all. Despite everything she done, despite it being her first year, a single slip with her name and still she was called upon. The odds were never in their favour. Prim screaming for her as Gale pulled her away-
Still so small when they said goodbye, curled up in her lap. Arms wound tight around her neck. The little tail of her blouse once more untucked. Smelling like herbs and home.
"I don't care if we're rich. I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really, try?"
How could she not promise to try? She would do anything for Prim.
This might have been the beginning; the cause. Their only victor and therefore mentor was a drunk who already wasn't much but seemed to like Peeta more than her. Peeta, the baker's boy who seemed not just pretend kind and wouldn't stop following her. Something she needed to cease knowing what was coming.
Realistically her chances might not have been bad. Her skill with a bow was alright, she was with a knife alright. She still could in a week acquire some skills, gain some weight with so much food available.
The glaring obstacle were the Careers.
Tributes from One, Two and Four. They'd as always formed an alliance; the Career pack and if nothing out of the ordinary happened that skewered the Games in someone else's favour most often someone from those three Districts won.
With their fancy academy training, honing their ability to kill. District Two was the worst of them, the most victors, the most brutal of them, weapon efficiency bred into their blood and not much else. Just trained Capitol killers. Bloodthirsty. This year's selection did fit the description.
A mountain of a boy, the whole day he had been hacking away at dummies with a sword, barely breaking a sweat and muscles straining against his uniform. Smirking, looking at everyone menacingly.
His female counterpart appeared no less deadly, but differently. At home at the knives station. She was tiny but fury incarnated, a handful of knives leaving her hand in a matter of moments, hitting the targets with a force; all dead center. Spinning and whirling gracefully, despite almost looking bored before she shot a teeth bared smile at anyone who dared to look.
What set her apart even from the other Careers' was how she seemed to be in her own sphere, while her District partner took the lead of the pack even against the boy from One she kept herself at the periphery.
Observing. Her eyes knifing for weaknesses in her allies just as much as the other tributes. After lunch Katniss saw the boys move from station to station, whispering, considering and she knew sometimes outliers would join the Career pack. Seldom and of course most often they'd be the first turned on.
But that mistake could be avoided by striking first.
The Careers took the Cornucopia at the beginning, the weapons, the best supplies. She only needed to get her hands on a bow, get a grip on her surroundings. Killing a Career, all volunteers for this spectacle, all wanting the blood on their hands, had to be easier.
Haymitch had told them to keep their head down. Not to show anything. He hadn't gotten anyone home in his over twenty years as a mentor.
Prim needed her. Gale had four siblings. Her mother wasn't reliable. If Gale had to choose between his own and her sister-
Katniss chewed on her lip. The tiny Career from Two hadn't moved from the targets. The boys were still walking around. The two other girls were close by training together with spears.
The bow was heavier in her hand, sturdy than her own back home. She pulled the string back. The first shot wouldn't land precisely.
She would need to calibrate, get used to it first. She considered. The tiny Career was starting a new round gathering her knives, ten targets appearing. Katniss had observed her enough to know what was coming. Her taking a breath. Almost unnoticeable the straightening of her back, the roll of her shoulders before her deadly dance began anew.
Katniss was almost hidden, further away to the side. She still would have a clear shot. Arrow or knife. The quiver barely was in reach before her first arrow hit the target to the side of the knife merely grazing the bullseye, the second they were side by side, the next with the sudden hesitation of the knife thrower her arrow was split by the knife. By the end, every target was struck. Arrows and knives battling for the bullseye, heart after heart split in two.
The female tribute from Two whirled around. It only took a heartbeat for her eyes to meet Katniss' and only a moment for Katniss to have to duck to avoid a knife coming for her head. Her heart raced.
Orderlies shouted, but the room had gone still, tributes watching. After all, they weren't allowed to kill each other yet, not without giving the entirety of the Capitol the pleasure of watching. Forcing calm Katniss only tilted her head.
"Best of two?" Katniss' voice cut through the silence, sharp as the knife she’d nearly caught in her skull.
The other girl narrowed her eyes. No weakness. Katniss held her gaze, picked up the knife from the ground, closed the distance between them and offered it to the other girl hilt first. "You dropped this." She offered.
Unmoving as dark eyes flickered between hers, a brow slowly lifting. "Is that the best you can do?"
Katniss shrugged. "Not yet. Still getting used to something this gaudy." She offered more honest than she probably should, sniffing at the silver bow at her hand, surprised when it earned her an amused huff.
"Better get used to it then fast." The girl turned around inputting a command in the console and the targets were switched out for new ones. Not giving Katniss a starting sign beside the sudden coil of her muscles, the tendons of her neck standing out, before a knife left her hands.
Katniss, quick to match it with an arrow.