Summary: To anyone who knew her, Primrose Everdeen was the brightest ray of hope in the slums of District 12. Her older brother was the complete opposite, and he wouldn't change it for the world. But just how far will he go to maintain that hope? (Or: what if Katniss was a boy?)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
So this story is mostly book based, but with movie pieces incorporated to fit my needs. I'm not going to insult all of our reading abilities by copying the book verbatim, so let's just agree that any discrepancies are instead...creative liberties. Reception test commencing...let me know if you think this is worth pursuing or not. Happy reading.
The morning of the reaping is always a bit surreal, Briar reflects, as he calms Prim down and waits for her to doze off again. It starts off like any other day, but inevitably it changes someone's life permanently. Multiple people. Seeing the whole world was different on this one day of the year - knowing two people would not be coming home, ever. Two people you might have gone to school with. Might have been close friends with. Just gone, no rhyme or reason to it.
He brushes his shaggy brown hair from his forehead, dressing for his morning hunt before making his exit. Making his way under the dead fence, Briar moves through the trees nimbly, his light tread disturbing neither plants nor wildlife. Retrieving his bow and arrows from their hiding place, he makes his way deeper into the trees, leaving behind the only civilization he has ever known.
Taking stock in his surroundings, he heads towards the river, where he knew his best friend to be. It was their meet spot, and he isn't disappointed as his eyes caught the taller teen ahead. He widens his stride, falling easily into step with the other boy.
Gale was a rough sort, if you weren't used to him. The pair hadn't hit it off very well at first, Briar having been accused of trying to steal his catch. It had taken several minutes before he had dissuaded the older teen, hesitantly asking for tips on making snares.
Briar detested ever having to ask for help.
Their friendship was slow, until Gale realized that the bow the slight boy carried was more than just for show. The mutual benefit gained by either teen was enough for them to forgo any animosities. Briar reckoned this was what it felt like to have an older brother.
He glances sideways, looking up at the older boy. Aside from their dark hair, tanned complexion, and steel colored eyes, physical traits most dominantly found in people from the Seam, the two boys differed greatly.
Gale was tall and solidly built, leaving no doubt to his strength and prowess. In contrast, Briar was a full head shorter, with a wiry sort of build. Too many days with not enough food having affected his growth, his strength was deceptive in his nimble movements.
They stick to small game on these mornings before the reaping, the increased security putting everyone on edge. With a line of fish from Gale, and two squirrels from Briar, and a handful of vegetation, the pair makes their way back to the district in silence, ducking back under the fence, swinging by the Hob on the way home.
The Hob was a market. Of sorts. Not an official one. Or even completely lawful. But it meets their needs well enough, as they traded some of their game and berries for fresh bread. The last stop before home is the Mayor's house, having separated some strawberries from their spoils. The mayor's daughter, Madge, is the one who opens the door, taking in the site of the two Seam boys before her gaze falls to the strawberries.
In Briar's book, she's alright. Like him she tended to keep to herself, which meant that she was mostly tolerable, and she never seemed to take his brooding disposition to heart, unlike most other girls who somehow found offense even when there was none to be taken. This morning her typical, boring school outfit has been placed by a white dress, probably more expensive than it should be, and her blonde hair is done up with pink ribbons.
This was the one day of the year people tried to look nice.
"Pretty dress," Gale comments idly, not really appearing to be interested. Madge purses her lips slightly, studying him with a critical eye.
"Well, got to look good in case I go to the Capitol, right?"
Gale snorts slightly at the response, not knowing if she was serious or not.
"Like that would happen," he mutters. "You have what, five entries? I had more than that my first year."
Schooling the annoyance off his face, Briar nudges the bigger boy none too gently.
"Not like it's her fault."
Shaking his head, Gale let his gaze fall to the wall beside the door, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. Briar shruggs, offering her the bag of strawberries. Madge takes them, exchanging money.
"Good luck Briar."
The surly teen just nods. "You too," he mumbles to the closing door. With that the two took their leave, splitting their spoils before taking leave of each other with few words.
When he reaches home, he stows the goods, taking stock of Prim, who was all dolled up in a skirt and ruffled blouse. Briar had painstakingly tried his hand at sewing, pleased to note that he hadn't failed too bad at taking her clothes in. A warm bath awaits, and he quickly scrubs the grime from his morning off, using the little bit of soap left for his hair before rinsing it, toweling off. A pair of clean, crisp looking black pants are laid out, paired with a grey button up shirt. He slips into his normal boots, letting the trouser legs hide them from view as he buttoned his shirt, hair drying quickly in the warming air.
Refraining from rolling his eyes, he let his mother fuss with his hair, using her hands to comb it into some semblance of neatness that was typically absent on a normal day.
"You look so much like your father," she says wistfully, straightening up. They were the same height, his mother being slightly on the taller side of average for a woman. That put him on the shorter side of average for a growing teenage boy.
"You look very handsome," Prim adds in a quite voice.
"Sure," he replies wryly, making sure to exaggerate his sarcasm enough so that she would get it. Prim was the only one he would ever do that for, and it worked. She smiles, looking down at the floor. Crouching down so he was more her height, Briar wraps his arms around her, holding her steady. He remembers how nerve racking his first reaping was, and, although he had refused to let her take any tesserae, it only took one entry to be chosen.
His heart is heavy as he helps to tuck in her shirt as their mother bustles about the kitchen, preparing a small breakfast.
"Don't worry. I won't let anything bad happen to you," he tells her quietly, staring straight into her eyes.
"But what if-"
"Hey! You trust me right?" he asks, embellishing hurt in his tone.
Silently Prim nods.
"Whatever happens, I'll take care of it," he vows, trying to comfort her. "Now lets go eat."
Prim gives a small, shaky smile, but nods all the same, clinging to his arm as they make their way into the kitchen. With some milk and bread, they force themselves to eat, knowing it would be a long afternoon, before killing what time they had left. At one o'clock they head to the square, Briar's arm wrapped protectively around his sister's shoulder, leading her through the check in process before personally dropping her off in the last roped off section of the bunch - reserved for the youngest age group. He lets Prim hug him one last time before setting his shoulders, moving towards the front of the group.
Briar tries to stay near the edge of the group, nodding to his fellow Seam dwellers as the square continues to fill, quickly getting packed. He spots Gale at the front of the group, quirking one eyebrow in silent communication. He receives a shrug in response.
The clock strikes two, and Mayor Undersee, Madge's tall, balding father steps up to the podium and begins to speak. Briar tunes him out, having long since memorized the spiel that was spoken every single year. Instead he let his eyes filter to District 12's escort, a bizarre looking woman with pinkish hair and a bright green suit, both of which contrasts with her otherwise snow white skin.
The mayor continues to drone through the history of Panem, rising up from the destruction of North America, the rebellions, and the creation of the districts. The monotone is only broken by the appearance of Haymitch Abernathy, District 12's last living victor. He's nothing short of a drunk, staggering onto the stage, falling heavily into the third, previously empty seat. Trying to divert the attention from the washed up man, the mayor introduces Effie to the group, where she takes the stand, hand moving up to her hair, as if to keep it in place.
"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" she intones with an unnatural amount of glee. He tunes her out, meeting Gale's eyes again, who's wearing the slightest of grins at Haymitch's grand appearance. Briar's eyes shift to the glass ball up on the stage that holds the boys names, eying it with trepidation. Twenty chances in some odd thousand to be chosen.
His gaze defects to the girl's ball as Effie makes her way to it first, reaching deeply into the ball before pulling out a slip of paper. Collectively the crowd holds their breaths, dead silence settling over the group. Effie crosses back to the microphone, smoothing the slip of paper before reading out the name in a clear voice.
"Primrose Everdeen."
The breath Briar had been holding was suddenly no where to be found, his eyes widening slightly in panic, feeling as though he had been kicked in the chest.
The audience murmurs their disdain at a twelve-year-old being chosen, the customary response to the general unfairness of it all. Briar first searches out Gale in the crowd, noticing his friend is glaring at the ground, eyes hard, jaw clenched. His nostrils are flared in the anger that Briar is numb to.
He spins in place, searching out his sister. The blood is drained from her face, hands fisted at her sides in pure terror as she walks stiffly through the crowd, visibly shaking, almost to the point of tears. Briar moves through the crowd to cut her off, grabbing her arm as she passes, immediately crouching down to her height.
"Prim, look at me," he orders, voice raised slightly - the only possible sign of his internal hysteria. She does so slowly, the group of people seemed to shrink back, giving them a slight amount of space as the audience quieted. "Listen to me. I promise you on my life you will be okay. Do I break my promises?" With teary eyes she shakes her head, breath catching slightly. "Stay calm. Go. I promise."
After a moment of hesitation, she lets Briar nudge her away, and she continued with small steps, eventually reaching the stairs, stopping briefly before climbing them. Briar shakes from the sudden onslaught of adrenaline, looking at the small figure of his sister with trepidation. Her gaze is dropped to the stage floor. Aside from her watery eyes, she looks as numb as he feels.
"Excellent, excellent," Effie says in her upbeat manner, and Briar scowls fiercely at the woman, not at all seeing the excellence she spoke of. Without much more delay, she moves to the ball containing the boys' names, rifling through it for the briefest of moments before retrieving a slip.
She moves back to the podium, flattening the paper before reading it off.
"Peeta Mellark."
Briar releases a breath, feeling the most fleeting content in his decision. As far as classmates go, Peeta was a decent guy. He had helped him out once, way back before he had become self sufficient. Briar, Prim and their mother had fallen on hard times after his father died in a mining accident. It was a wet, rainy day that he had been trying to scavenge for any scraps he could find in hopes of feeding them.
The baker's wife had shooed him away from their trash cans, but Peeta appeared several minutes later, tossing burnt scraps to the pigs. He had paused with the last of it, a full loaf, glancing to his famished school mate for the briefest of seconds before double checking the window. Without tearing his gaze from the house, the boy had tossed the loaf into the alley, where Briar stared at it in shock for several seconds as the bigger kid disappeared into the house.
With a jolt, Briar had scooped up the still steaming loaf, scrambling into the main street, running the entire way to his house, not stopping to even breathe. He had crashed through the door, eyes wide with excitement, before presenting the loaf to his mother, Prim weakly making her way to check on the commotion. They had rationed that bread for two days.
The next day at school, Briar had sucked up his honor and made a point to walk into Peeta, causing the other boy to drop his books. He paused, helping gather them before returning them, catching the other boy's eye.
"Thanks," he had said with a stiff nod, before taking off. It was the last real time they had ever interacted. That day was when he realized that the solution to feeding his family had been in front of him the whole time, his father's lessons coming back slowly.
He snaps back to the present day, where a sturdy built, blonde teen, who was only a bit taller than himself, has settled onto the stage, looking remarkably close to vomiting, face turning red.
"Oh this is just marvelous. Do we have any volunteers?"
On a normal day, this would be a pointless question - in the neglected District 12, the term tribute is practically synonymous with corpse. Nevertheless, Briar doesn't hesitate before raising his hand, steeling himself for the reactions.
"I volunteer as tribute."