A/N: Dear reader: how do you feel about overly dramatic, bittersweet love stories? Apparently, I like to write them, like to lay awake at night and conjure up heartbreak that isn't my own. If you do, too, this is definitely your kind of story.
It's nothing original, just a story of the reaping at the beginning of the Hunger Games turning out differently, that others have made an attempt at before me. If my story resembles others that you've read, it's probably not a coincidence... But the idea has been stuck in my mind for a long while, and well, I though I might as well write my own take of it.
Here, I may have made both Katniss and Gale a little less tough then they originally are in the book, so if they seem out of character, I'm well aware.
Thank you for giving this story a try, and please let me know your thoughts!
The morning of the 74th annual Hunger Games dawns overcast but dry, coal dust filling the air to stifling levels in the thick humidity. As the day wears on, the tension already filling the air with fear intensifies with the unrelenting pressure of rain refusing to fall. By midday, every citizen within the confines of District 12 could feel the creeping, heavy sensation of dread deep in their hearts, and Katniss Everdeen more so than most. She knows she has nowhere to hide -not from the clammy, dirty air making her worn but pretty blue dress stick to her skin, and certainly not from the Capitols vengeful eye, which she feels is just waiting to descend on her, whisk her away from everything she holds dear. Or perhaps not on her, but then on either of the other children whose lives are connected with hers. As she sees it, this day can go only two ways: disaster, or respite for a whole other year. There is nothing in between. The probability of the former is too big for her liking, if either she gets selected herself, with her twenty ill-fated slips scattered around that hateful bowl, or if the name called from the boys happens to be Gale Hawthorne. With his obscene amount of no less than forty-two name slips, he's in much more danger than she is to be chosen to give his life to the rulers of Panem. And also, he's her best friend.
Katniss allows herself a quick scan over to the oldest boys' section, and finds Gale easily among them. Not only is he one of the tallest boys in the district, at eighteen more a man than a boy, but he's also among the few young men standing straight, with his head held high in defiance. She has to smile a little at this, stand a little straighter herself as she draws strength from his courage. Katniss and Gale, a team of hunters, she reminds herself proudly. Nothing can break them, not even a lifetime of unfair conditions and the odds against their favour. After this day, when danger has passed, he will have eluded the wrath that is called the Hunger Games securely, forever. Katniss still has two more reaping to go before reaching relative freedom, but surely, they'll both be fine. He had assured her as much only a couple of hours ago, as they parted ways after spending the morning hunting in the woods. If only it weren't for her sister, Katniss would be almost calm, but as it is, Primrose is only twelve. The next six years will be a time of constant, bone-deep fear, since the worst thing in the world would be if they stole away Prim to a place where Katniss could no longer protect her, and then carelessly endangered her life. She can feel her heart thunder against her ribs at the very thought.
Gale senses her looking at him, and catches her eyes, grey on grey across the crowd. The ill fated in this district all wear the same tell-tale signs, branding them for what they are with darkish skin, black hair and eyes the colour of stone. He flashes her a warm, reassuring grin, just like she unwillingly needs him to. One slip, only one slip, his eyes seem to be telling her. She smiles bravely back at him, flicks her head in the direction of the stage ahead as if to say: look at that woman, how can such silly people stand any chance against us? The Capitolite in question is the woman whose job it is to organise the Games in their district- the lowliest of them all. She must be tackling the despair at representing such a hopeless place by decorating herself with bright colours, but thus she only succeeds in standing out even more in the dull glumness here, where coal turns everything grey. Gale winks back at her, and Katniss instantly feels better. She turns her head to find Prim in the crowd of children, wanting to share her new courage with her little sister. She knows Prim is terrified, even more so than herself.
That's when the microphone sparkles to life with a loud ringing noise of speaker feed that makes the audience flinch collectively. The woman of stage pulls her stark pink lips into a ridiculously bright smile, and welcomes them all, as if this place were hers to start with. Katniss silently wishes her all the way to hell, before finally spotting Prim among the twelve-year-old girls. With her blond braids and white shirt a few numbers too big, she looks far too young and angelic to be here. Her large eyes, the colour of the summer sky breaking through above, are fixed rigidly ahead, unaware of the attempted smile that her sister throws her way.
Katniss fixes the small figure with her eyes as the talk onstage drawls on, noticing how Prim's shirt has escaped her plaited skirt at the back, sticking out to form a little duck tail again despite their mother's best attempt. She's vaguely aware of the high-pitched voice on the speakers announcing that it's ladies first for the drawing.
Please don't let it be her, don't let it be her.
When a familiar name rings out across the town square, she doesn't even react at first. It wasn't her, and it wasn't her sister, but then why does she suddenly feel like something is terribly wrong anyway? Before the initial relief is completely out of her system, she notices that all eyes present are turned at her. Or more correctly, in her direction. A frown slips through her stony facial mask as she hears a sharp intake of breath to her right. Slowly, she blinks, turns her head to the side, and only then does the chosen name register in her brain.
Madge Undersee- the tall girl to her right, her only potential girlfriend in the entire world. And also the mayor's daughter, which technically should mean that the odds would be always in her favour. Her face is a mask of complete and utter shock; her pretty features scrunched up and green eyes wide. Across the audience, her expression is mirrored all over. Katniss tunes out the commotion on the stage, where the Mayor, whose job it is to send the tributes off each year, is clearly as unprepared for this outcome as is his daughter. Tentatively, she reaches out her hand to the girl beside her, squeezing her hand once in the only gesture she can think of. There are no words for a situation like this, and Katniss has never been one to know what to say anyway.
The blond girl snaps her head around to face her, fear apparent in her eyes. Katniss meets them steadily with her own, and it seems to be enough. Madge slips her face into something supposed to mirror the steely determination on her friend's face, and slowly begins to make her way forward. Katniss finds herself admiring the girl a little, how she pulls herself together as best she can. At the stage, she avoids wisely to look to her father, who is firmly held in place by the two officials on either side of him.
"Any volunteers?" his strong but shaking voice rings out over the crowd, as he places his last desperate hope in the possibility for any other girl of reaping age to willingly step forward and take Madge's place.
Katniss feels a strange, unwelcome stab of guilt surge deep inside her belly, knowing that she could do it, could save her friend from a whole world of horror and fear, could save her life. The guilty part is that she never would. No one would be stupid enough to volunteer their life for someone they had no real connection to, let alone for someone they barely even knew. She looks at Madge standing tall up there with eyes far away over the crowd, and she tries to make her heart feel nothing. Not her problem, she tells herself.
Then that awful woman in the pink wig announces it's time for the boy's drawing and at once, her belly clenches in pure, unadulterated fear again. So far, this reaping hasn't gone the way it should, and still it's far from over. Katniss clenches her fists tight, and her eyelids tighter, trying to wipe her mind clean, and will the next words over the microphone to be unfamiliar to her ear.
When the words are finally spoken, they echo around in her brain for a split second, as if all her surprise has already been spent and left only bleak knowledge of what will happen next. Because the first name is fine, not recognisable at first since it's completely unexpected- but the surname is so, so very wrong. Despite his large number of slips, Gale has avoided the Games for seven straight years, but in turn, his little brother Rory has not. Just like Prim, one single piece of paper carried his name in that whole big bowl, but that didn't stop it from finding its way into the Capitol's hands. But how? Katniss hasn't even bothered to worry about Rory, as if his brother's disastrous odds somehow should have evened out his own. And now, without even looking at her best friend, she knows exactly what's going to happen. Like she should have expected, disaster has won out in the end.
Gale's strong, deep voice- the one she knows and trusts more than any other voice in the world- rings out across the entire square, for the whole district to hear, before Rory has even had a chance to start walking towards the stage.
"I volunteer!" There's not a trace of hesitation in it.
And with those words, Katniss' world shifts and refocuses. She instinctively shuts off any emotion from showing on her face, and locks down her heart for action. Almost like she's heading for a fight, adrenaline courses through her veins, prepares her for what's next and before the crowd can quite grasp what's going on, she has pushed her way to his side.
The microphone is cackling something about how exciting, and she can sense a bit of unease sweep through the crowd, but she is focused solely on Gale's dark eyes, as grim as hers. His strong jaw is set firmly, holding back anything that might otherwise be showing for the world to see, but she can find no fear in his expression- only a sense of inevitable duty, just like she knew she would. And anger, boiling fire underneath, that threatens to spill over at any second. Gale has a temper to match his determination, but usually he will let it consume him only in her presence, when they're alone in the freedom of the forest. Now, with the immense injustice of people threatening to send his beloved little brother to slaughter, she can tell he's having trouble controlling it.
He can't lose it now, when she knows he will need his calm calculating mind more than ever, and she's not going to let him. When two Peacekeepers in white uniforms walk up to where they're standing, come to make sure Gale takes action of his pledge to be tribute, she is immediately alerted. Tearing her gaze from his, she fixes it instead on the vaguely familiar face of the man who's grabbing a rough hold of Gale's arm. She's not going to let them drag him up there, even if it's the last thing she does.
"Get your hands off him!" she snaps, her glare intense enough to shatter even the strongest of wills. The poor young Peacekeeper doesn't stand a chance, but flinches away from her best friend at once. Katniss replaces it with her own, seemingly calm enough, as if her iron grip on his bicep means nothing more than it would in the woods when it's just them, and she has spotted something urgent.
She locks her eyes on his for a moment, silently begging him to keep his temper in check for now, to be calm enough so that they'll both get through this ordeal with at least their pride intact. Gale accepts her help without question, inhaling a deep gulp of air to fill up his posture and hold up his head, just like she's still holding hers. He tugs her along with his arm, and they simultaneously turn their heads forward, taking the first fateful step straight towards to the stage. It seems strangely fitting. He's thinking that if anyone could lead him willingly down this path, it would be her. Together, they can do anything.
The mass of children part before them to form a narrow walkway, down which they stride side by side, the two officers in white trailing behind. Gale lets his mind wander astray for a short second, thinking that in another setting, in another lifetime, he can imagine this happening in a completely different way. In the background, they can hear the crying protests of his little brother, but he has to trust the rest of their families to take care of Rory. He'll understand, he thinks. In time he'll understand.
When the time comes for Katniss to let go of his arm, it takes her at least two tries before she succeeds. Her muscles are still so tightly locked that they won't respond to command, or perhaps it's her subconscious protesting loud enough that her body listens. Either way, she eventually lets her arm fall to her side, shares another look with him that bravely says up you go, and then he's climbing the steps to the stage in long, purposeful steps. She doesn't take her eyes off him for a second, as he rises to his full length up there, speaks out his own name for everyone to hear in a sure voice, and moves to take his place beside Madge, shaking her hand firmly. Through the long, agonizing speech that follows, drawn out since the man whose job it is to read it is close to tears, Gale's eyes find hers again, and they continue the silent conversation that they've been having this whole time:
Stay strong. Don't you dare letting me down. We're better than them, remember that.
… And something else, quieter but still running strong and deep beneath the hard glint, only for the two of them to notice. Katniss thinks it might be the remorse of please don't leave me alone.
When the crowd refuses to applause, instead raising their hands with three fingers out in the air towards the two young people on stage, she feels a grim satisfaction and appreciation for her hometown. Her gaze flickers quickly to Madge and then back. No, these two are certainly too good to give up easily for the amusement of the Capitol. Even the drunken man who is now their mentor seems to realise this, but she disregards his awkward display, even when he near falls over her. She refuses to think that this buffoon could be Gale's best chance in the next couple of weeks, when he deserves so incredibly much more.
Then the two tributes are escorted into the Justice Building, and she watches Gale slip out of her reach with thus far held back panic rising in her chest. Only a strong sense of duty sets her in motion, makes her automatically turn around in search for her sister and Gale's family. After all, she's basically in charge of their survival now, all according to a pact struck between her and Gale long ago. She finds them standing in a tight little group to the side of the leaving crowds; the unlucky ones left behind to despair as everyone else goes off to celebrate. Rory is inconsolable, hysteric even, despite his mother and Prim having their arms around him, trying to keep him together. To complete the chaos at hand, he has set off both his younger siblings crying, too.
Katniss stands nonplussed before them, the severity on her face not yet allowed to slip away. After a short internal debate, she chooses to at least try and do something. She leans down to grip Rory's shoulders, meets his eyes, to much like Gale's, and lets him see the determination in hers.
"Listen," she starts, shaking him a little. "It'll be okay, but you need to pull yourself together. Now." It's a little harsh, and he's only twelve, and a rather sensitive kid at that, but in her eyes, that's life. He needs to understand that.
"How will it be okay?" Rory rasps out between hiccups. His huge, redlined eyes are asking her for answers she doesn't quite have.
"It will be, because it has to," she says simply, hoping his big brother will have something better to tell the kid in a little while. "Now let's go, he's not gone yet."
Gone. Wrong choice of words, Katniss realises as she flinches at them herself. No matter how hard she tries to hold off any personal grief over what has just happened until later, she finds it impossible as realisation starts to really dawn on her. She may only have a few minutes left with her best friend, ever. Over the years since her father died, Gale has become essential to her life, her happiness and almost her sanity, with his reassuring presence at her side and his ability to make her laugh and smile through the worst of times. She has no doubts in her own ability at hunting, but it's all so much easier when they're together, when their minds connect effortlessly to form a perfect team. The thought of losing him is not one she would like to entertain, so instead, she tries to focus on the problem of keeping him alive. How does one win the Hunger Games, without turning into a complete monster?
Katniss waits with her mother and sister in the grand hallway of the Justice Building, the only real structure of grandness in 12, while Gale's family troop away to see him first. She hugs her little sister tightly, drying the fat tears trailing down her pink cheeks with a steady hand.
"I'm so happy it's not you, Kat," says Prim in a whisper. "Even if it's wrong to think so."
"Ssch, don't talk like that," she hushes her, fighting to keep the emotional overflow from getting to her. "But you know I would have done the same, if it were you."
She doesn't say it out loud, but in a way she thinks it would be easier if it were indeed her going into the Games. She's sure that she would prefer to act, rather than to sit on the sideline and watch helplessly.
When she sees the Mayor and his wife exit the room beside the one where the Hawthornes went in, an idea strikes her. She tells her family to stay and wait for Gale's, to all head back to the Seam and wait for her there. Then she strides up to see Madge, most likely for the last time.
The blond girl looks up in surprise when she enters, clearly not expecting any more visitors after her parents. Like Katniss, she is not one for many shallow friendships. Once inside, Katniss doesn't quite know what she came for, but she takes a seat on a low chair next to the plush sofa where Madge is perched. The two girls stare at each other for a moment, before Katniss finds her voice.
"I'm sorry," she croaks out, fidgeting nervously with the end of her ever-present braid. What else is there to say, really?
To her surprise, Madge smiles a wry smile, and holds her back a little straighter.
"Don't be. What happened, happened." She always did seem stronger than what's expected from someone whose life has supposedly always been easy. "Besides," she continues, looking Katniss right in the eyes, "the same goes for you, too."
Of course, Madge would know about her close companionship with Gale, as she and her father are some of their best customers. Katniss nods, and then they sit in silence for a little while. She notices a beautifully crafted golden pin on the bodice of Madge's dress, but decides not to comment on it. Probably some parting gift from her parents.
Before she leaves, her allotted time run out, Katniss unexpectedly finds herself wrapped in a quick hug, and hears hushed words whispered in her ear.
"Don't worry, he'll make it back."
She can hear the words, sure, but she has not the faintest idea of what they're supposed to mean. Why would she say that? Confused, she keeps her eyes on Madge's suddenly intent face as she is escorted out of the room. She was going to say something like it was nice to know you as parting words, but she can't even find time for a quick good luck before the door closes behind her.
By then, it's almost her time to see Gale, his last visitor before he has to board a train that will bring him far away, into a living nightmare. She only mulls over the mayor's daughter's parting words for a minute or two, before she forcefully shoves them into the back of her mind. She has more pressing matters at hand.
The second door in the hall opens, and out falls two girls from school, sobbing dramatically even though Katniss is sure none of them knows anything about Gale, beyond his annoyingly good looks. She is well aware of how all the girls at school are giggling and gossiping about him, but it has never bothered her much. If they want to fawn over his strong jaw line and bone structure, or whatever, that's none of her business, as long as he chooses to spend his afternoons helping her provide for their families. For all she cares, he could be hunchbacked and cross-eyed; it's his physical and mental strength that she wants him for. As a hunting partner, that is.
Gale can fool around with whomever he wants, in his free time. However, these girls annoy the living hell out of her now. In what way do their lives depend on him? What right do they have to cry? She pushes away that thought too, for the moment.
When she steps into the room where Gale is restlessly pacing to and fro, all other thoughts disappear at once. Her eyes take in the sight of him, and all she can think about is that this cannot be the last time she sees him. His body is visibly tense, the muscles standing out in his arms and one hand constantly rubbing through his short black hair.
He stops when he sees her walk in, and immediately opens his arm to her. There has never been anything romantic between them; in her mind, they've been far too busy surviving to think of such things- and besides, they're just friends. Still, she doesn't hesitate to go into them. His body is familiar to her – the way it moves, the smell of wood smoke, even the sound of his heart beating she knows from quiet moments on a hunt- but this is the first time she really feels it, lean and hard-muscled against her own. She wraps her arms tightly around his waist, and takes a few seconds to just feel the life beneath his skin.
Then she breaks away from the embrace, but stays close enough since his arms won't let her go completely. Words start to stream out of her of tactic, of hunting, and of scenarios where he has to do everything to survive.
"… and you have to use your traps, I'm sure you can make them work on bigger things than rabbits. Oh, and remember those healing plants that I showed you last week? Mother says that they're easy to find in most vegetation, if you just look closely enough. And…"
"Hush, Catnip," he says eventually in a low voice, using the silly nickname that he has come up with for her, seemingly without thinking. A little frown creases his forehead, as if he's trying to concentrate on something else. "I know all that already, I just don't know how to hunt… other people."
But she knows he would be able to, if it meant life and death, or if someone threatened to hurts one of his loved ones. Just like her.
"Then don't think of them as people," She says grimly. Her eyes turn even more intent on his, as she rushes out the next words. "Promise me you'll do whatever it takes to survive."
It takes him a moment to figure out how to respond, with her wonderful stormy eyes so close up and her chest almost pressing against his.
"I will, if you let me do one thing first?"
"Anything," she replies, bewildered and not understanding what he could possibly want from her. She's already promised not to let his family go hungry.
So therefore, she's incredibly surprised when his hands slide up her arms to take hold of her face instead. His touch on the bare skin of her arms tingles strangely, and she has just enough time to see his eyes soften and his pupils widen, as his face slowly draws nearer. On impulse, her eyelids flutter closed.
His lips close over hers in a full sensation of warmth and softness, of her lower belly fluttering like crazy and the sound of blood rushing in her ears. With a tiny movement, he makes her lips part ever so slightly, and suddenly, a rush of warmth courses through her body. She has completely forgotten how to breathe. He holds them together for another few short moments, which seem like an eternity, and then he breaks the kiss. Her first kiss, ever, and her mind is spinning dizzily from it.
"I had to do that, at least once," he whispers. His gentle outlet of air tickles along her lips, which are helplessly parted and still slightly puckered. Between her brows is a confused, but also faintly wistful crease that seems to say why now more than why.
Her hands are curled tight against his chest, but her deep grey eyes are wide open in surprise. She stares into his somewhat lighter grey ones, mesmerized by the swirling emotions she sees there, but too dazed to figure out what any of them might mean.
Then the door is burst open, and the heavy atmosphere in the room, buzzing between her body and his, is harshly broken. Two uniformed Peacekeepers marsh inside, their intrusion annoying but not enough for either of them to break the gaze. For once, they're not communicating, but simply seeing each other, and it's even better.
"Time's up, no more visitors allowed," announces the man to Katniss' right, laying a firm hand on her shoulder. This time, trying to shake them off is no use- no matter how tightly he clutches her hand and asks for just one more minute please to finish what he has started here, she is still quickly being marched backward to the door. Their eyes cling desperately to each other, hers still opened wide as she tries to wrap her mind around what just happened, and his pleading for her to understand, as the space between them only grows wider.
"Katniss, remember I…"
The door slams shut in her face, cutting off whatever it was he wanted her to know, with finality that echoes in her head. She didn't get to tell him good luck either, and now she will maybe never know what that strange action of his was all about. What is it with these two today? Most likely, the intense horror of being chosen to compete in the Hunger Games has driven as well Madge as Gale over the edge. Not that she had minded…
Katniss finds herself gingerly touching her tingling lips with the tops of her fingers as she makes her way out of the building, her two escorts in white letting her walk on her own accord. They're a little chapped, just as usual, and yet they have never felt softer in her whole life. If she's supposed to take some other action before heading home, if there's some kind of plan she could possibly come up with right now, she has completely forgotten about it. The cotton-like, hazy film over her brain remains firmly in place as she walks absently across town, her eyes not even registering the many pitiful eyes that turn her way, nor hearing the whispered words that trail behind her back. In her mind, the image of Gale in a completely different light refuses to give way, and it might as well stay there as long as it can, blocking out all potential unpleasant thoughts of tomorrow. Because tomorrow, she has to start dealing with the reality of being left behind at home.