Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else that may be referenced.
The Knife in his Side
Chapter 1
Clove smirked from behind a dense clump of bushes, watching as the District Twelve girl approached the Cornucopia, just as the cannon signalled the death of the District Five girl, with the red hair. She, Clove, had discovered the District Twelves little cave days before, and had planned out her kills carefully upon hearing of the feast. She had spotted the District Five girl stealing food early on in the Games, but had kept the information to herself, feeling she could use it later; and she did once she realised the berries in the bushes near the Twelves cave were poisonous. They had to be, otherwise why weren't they eating them? So before leaving for the feast she had made a little bundle of berries with the aid of a leaf and had allowed them to fall from her pocket as she sprinted off towards the Cornucopia. It seemed that as she hoped, District Five had been watching and had eaten them.
Twelve started slightly upon hearing the cannon and suddenly broke into a run, heading straight for the bag marked with her number. Just as her fist closed around the bag, Clove threw her knife and immediately darted to a new clump of bushes. The strangled gasp and boom from the cannon that followed told her that her knife had sailed true, as she knew it would. Two down, Clove thought. Two to go. Out of the corner of her eye, Clove saw a large silhouette turn and dart back the way it had come. Eleven, she thought, and followed, slipping almost naturally into the shadowing formations they taught in Peacekeeper Training back in Two.
Cato watched as Clove shadowed Thresh, from the safety of his grandmother's workshop. He had volunteered as tribute, but another boy; a conceited, over confident fifteen year old called Angus had put his hand up first. He had died on day eight. Cato had been bitter at first after the reaping: he and Clove had made a pact when they were seven that one day, they would enter the arena together, but now he cared little, for he knew that Clove was going to come home, and that was all that mattered to him; that he would get to train with her, flirt with her and snicker at her insults again.
Clove paused as Eleven, as she thought of him, ran into a corn field. He had the advantage now, despite the fact she had been shadowing him. She considered for a moment, then darted after him. She could practically hear Cato calling her an idiot.
"You STUPID IDIOT!" Cato hollered at his TV. His grandmother jumped violently and dropped her sewing.
"Cato!" she snapped. "Go shout at your girlfriend through the TV somewhere else: I'm busy."
"She's not my girlfriend," Cato replied automatically.
"Well, she's about to be your ex-girlfriend, quite literally," his grandfather replied, grinning, traditionally ignoring his grandson's protests. "What on earth is she thinking?"
"What's she done?" Cato's grandmother asked, her sewing now forgotten. "Ooh, she's not followed that Thresh bloke into the corn field has she?"
Cato made no response, staring hypnotised at the screen.
"Look at him, Aella!" his grandfather nodded to Cato. "Sweating buckets, he is!"
"Shut up Caderyn!" his grandmother absently waved a knitting needle at her husband. "She's about to get him!"
"C'mon, Clover," Cato murmured. Caderyn's lips twitched, but he too, was captivated by the Games.
Clove, having pulled the knife with the longest blade she had, progressed deeper into the cornfield, following Eleven. When he suddenly ventured right, however, she darted left and kept moving, her knife held in the hand closest to Eleven.
She realised the second she moved that she had made a mistake. Eleven suddenly barrelled into her, picked her up as though she was a rag doll wrenched her knife from her grip, and dropped her into a clearing. Clove rolled backwards, her left hand fumbling inside her jacket for her last and smallest knife, the knife she saved for emergencies. She stood up as Eleven approached her, her long bladed knife glittering from his hand. They began to circle each other.
"Don't taunt him, don't taunt him, don't taunt him," Cato chanted softly, his teeth buried him his knuckles.
Her small knife now firmly secured in her hand, Clove suddenly felt a lot more confident.
"You're holding it wrong," she informed Eleven, nodding to her knife. Many miles away, Cato groaned loudly.
"You kill Rue?" Eleven asked Clove.
"Rue?" Clove repeated, puzzled. "Oh, the girl tribute from your district? No, I didn't. That was Marvel, from District One. The Twelve girl killed him."
"And you killed Twelve." Eleven said. "I saw you."
With that he charged. Clove leapt backwards and flung her knife with all her strength. It sailed harmlessly over Eleven's right shoulder.
Clove moved to the left. "You're still holding my knife wrong." She remarked, dodging his first strike.
Eleven laughed. "What about you? I thought they say you never miss a throw."
She dodged his second strike and leapt forward, then right, seeing something silver zooming towards them. "I don't."
The small knife plunged deep into the side of Eleven's neck. He froze, choked and fell forward at her feet. The cannon boomed. Clove stepped forward and prised her long bladed knife from his fingers. The small silver letters of the word BOOMERANG gleamed at her from the handle of the small knife.
All was silent as Clove ran through the area, back towards the Twelves cave. She had no real reason to run, she just wanted to go home.
The Twelve boy was sleeping when she entered the cave. Clove winced as she caught sight of the deep gash Glimmer had inflicted on him when she had been stung by the tracker jacker venom: She had managed to grab the knife, she, Clove used to kill a lizard either that night and had thrown it after the Twelve girl. But despite the power of her throw, Glimmer's aim had been off and the knife had sunk into the Twelve boy's leg, and the wound had, it seemed, become badly infected. As Clove approached him, his breathing slowed, then ceased. He was dead.
Clove turned and left the cave, heading back to the Cornucopia. She emerged through the trees into the clearing, just as the cannon boomed and Claudius Templesmith's voice echoed loudly around the area. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I AM PLEASED TO PRESENT THE VICTOR OF THE SEVENTY-FOURTH HUNGER GAMES, CLOVE MARCAN. I GIVE YOU; THE TRIBUTE FROM DISTRICT TWO!"
A ship suddenly flew into the area, a ladder falling from a door as it paused. Clove ran to meet the ship and climbed onto the ladder, holding on tightly with one hand, and she waved to the arena and the nation of Panem as she was lifted upwards towards the ship. But it was only after she was safely aboard the ship and the door had been slammed shut behind her did a small, relieved smile cross her face. She had done it. She had won. She would see her family, and her district. She would train, swap insults, and flirt with Cato.
She was going home.
Clove was led into a small room behind a glass panel, where she accepted a glass of orange juice from a Capitol attendant and sipped it gently, savouring the taste.
Soon, they had landed on the roof of the Training Centre in the Capitol. As Clove drained the last of the juice, a wave of exhaustion swept over her, and she knew no more.
Many miles away, in District Two, Cato was training.
For exactly what reason, he had no clue. It just felt good to work.
He stood fifteen yards from a dummy that was rapidly moving towards him, a spear in one hand, sweat pouring from his temples after an intense hour of constant lifting, throwing and fighting. Lifting his arm over his head, Cato flung the spear and knew without looking that it had flown true. A beep sounded around the training room, indicating the level complete. Grabbing his bag from a corner, Cato pulled out a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Not bad." Cato whirled around, startled.
Caderyn leant against the door to the training room, his eyes moving from corner to corner, taking in the various dummies that were either decapitated, stabbed, or sporting large dents. "I've seen you do better though."
"Yeah, well, Clove's not here," Cato defended himself. "She used to wait until I had beaten level thirteen then switch to custom and send God knows what after me from the comfort of a plush leather swivel chair."
"You did the same to her," Caderyn pointed out. Cato grinned sheepishly. "Speaking of your girlfriend," Caderyn laughed at Cato's protest. "Your grandmother sent me; her interview's about to start."
"'Kay," Cato pulled a water bottle from his bag and twisted of the cap. Draining the whole bottle in one, he followed his grandfather from the room and up the stairs to the kitchen, where his grandmother was cooking. The Capitol seal glared out at them from the TV accompanied by blaring, rather obnoxious anthem of Panem. Cato and Caderyn sat down at the dining table as Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen.
"GOOD EVENING PANEM!" he beamed around at the screaming crowd. "GOOD EVENING AND WELCOME TO THE AFTERMATH OF THE SEVENTY-FOURTH HUNGER GAMES!"
Cato tuned out as Clove's prep team, Trariti Krimnet; Two's escort, and Clove's stylist came up through the floor, followed by Brutus and Enobaria.
"AND NOW," Caesar roared as Brutus and Enobaria took their seats. "PLEASE WELCOME, THE VICTOR OF THE SEVENTY-FOURTH HUNGER GAMES: CLOVE MARCAN!"
The applause and screams intensified as Clove rose upwards from beneath the stage, and Cato's jaw dropped slightly. Her hair was thick and glossy and fell around her shoulders in perfect waves. Her dress was strapless, skin tight to her knees, and was made of a scaly looking material the colour of burnt brick. Her shoes were black with very pointed, very high heels. Her finger and toe nails- which could be seen through a hole at the end of her shoes- were painted a rich, blood red. She looked beautiful and mysterious at the same time, but predominantly, she looked dangerous. Deadly. And Cato absolutely loved it.
"You're drooling," Aella informed her grandson, setting a plate down in front of him.
"It's the smell of the food," Cato answered, wiping his chin all the same.
"Of course it is; the smell of salad carries." Caderyn grinned at him.
A smile tugged at the corners of Aella's lips. "Caderyn, be nice." She chided, sitting down and turning to Cato. "She looks amazing, doesn't she?"
"Yeah." Cato smiled, not taking his eyes off the screen. "She does."
Clove seemed to freeze inside as she watched the seventy-fourth Hunger Games as Panem must have seen it, all the way from the reaping to her waving to the arena at the end of the games. So that was how she looked. At times she laughed and joked with Glimmer, Marvel and Angus, but for the most part her face was carefully devoid of emotion. However as she watched, Clove remembered how she had felt. She remembered the fear that her allies would turn on her that had eaten at her insides, the determination that had replaced it, once she had realised that it was either her, or them; that it was either kill, or be killed. But most of all, she remembered the loneliness, and the longing to return home that had purged her mind of all happiness, slowly begun to turn her crazy, and how it had only been the thought of "if I win, I go home,' that had kept her sane.
As the replay concluded, the anthem blared from hidden speakers and President Snow appeared on the stage, followed by a young girl, who was carrying the gold victor's crown. The entire room stood, and President Snow placed the crown atop Clove's head, smiling. Clove smiled back mechanically and waved to the crowd and Panem as Caesar concluded the event with a reminder to tune in tomorrow, when he would be having an exclusive interview with the victor.
The replay was followed by a banquet at the President's house. Clove ate little, due to the constant picture-taking, handshaking, and conversations she was expected to participate in.
She was awoken early the next morning by Enobaria.
"What is it?" she asked, sitting up in bed.
"Trariti says you have to get up, and I wanted to talk to you."
"About what?" Clove asked.
"You. Brutus and I have been talking, and we've agreed that the Capitol doesn't know you. I mean, they know you, but this is what they see: a small girl from district two who scrubs up well, and whose weapon of choice is a knife. Sure, when you made it into the final six, they did a personal story on you, but they don't really know who you are, aside from what you demonstrated in your pre-Games interview: that you're determined; and if they don't know you, they can't love you, and believe me, life is so much easier if you're loved in the Capitol." Enobaria grinned, revealing her pointed teeth. "So, I decided to offer you some advice; you don't have to follow it, but I'll tell you anyway. During your interview today, be talkative, bubbly, amusing and sarcastic. Make them fall in love with you. If you have to, imagine you're at home with that Cato guy, because honestly, I've been around you for nearly a month now, and throughout this whole thing, you've never been even half as relaxed as you are around him."
"You've been watching me, have you?" Clove asked, getting out of bed.
"I watch everyone, darling," Enobaria laughed, approaching the door. "It's how I survive."
Clove considered Enobaria's advice as Duvessa, Malaika and Axel, her prep team, prepared her for her interview with Caesar Flickerman. Then Quintessa, her stylist, arrived, carrying a garment bag.
"I thought we'd go with something a little closer to home today," she said, pulling a dress from the bag.
It was white, floor length, and sleeveless, made from the same material as the peacekeepers outfits. The collar would rest on her collar bones. Clove recognised the style instantly. "Aella made this."
"Yep." Quintessa grinned.
"Who's Aella?" Axel asked interestedly.
"She's the grandmother of a friend," Clove replied as she slipped into the dress.
"Well, your friend is very lucky," Malaika said as they walked to the sitting room down the hallway, where the interview would be held. "That dress is very well made: she must have the most beautiful dresses."
Clove laughed at the thought of Cato in a dress, but before she could reply they reached the sitting room, and she found herself being hustled away from her team by Trariti.
"Come on, come on, you're late!"
They were actually right on time, but to Trariti, right on time was late.
Caesar Flickerman was already installed in one of the two cream armchairs that stood amongst several pots of flowers before an array of cameras. He smiled at Clove as Trariti deposited her in the second armchair and bustled away, muttering darkly about 'keeping to a schedule.'
Clove smiled back at Caesar and out of the corner of her eye, saw Brutus and Enobaria slip into the room, just as someone counted back from five and the cameras began to roll.
"Good afternoon everyone, I am Caesar Flickerman, and I'm here this afternoon with the victor of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Clove Marcan, of District Two. Hello, Clove."
"Good afternoon, Caesar," Clove replied smiling. "I'm very happy to be here."
"As am I that you are," Caesar smiled back. "Now, let's get right down two it! I'd suggest your big moment in the Games began when the feast was announced, care to tell us about that?"
"Yeah, well, when you're in the arena, you start to go a little crazy after a while," Clove laughed sheepishly. "Well, at least I did, and when the announcement about the feast happened, I thought to myself: if I play my cards right, I could win this. So I planned it, and as you saw the plan didn't go exactly to, well, plan, but I turned it around and here I am."
"Quite, quite," Caesar agreed. "You say the plan went a bit awry? Would you say it was when Thresh attacked you?"
Clove nodded. "That was the one moment when I thought; 'it's over' but I remembered the boomerang knife."
"They're rather unusual, those boomerang knives, aren't they?" Caesar remarked. "Speaking of knives, you do seem to have a penchant for them, in combat."
Clove smiled. "Well I am smaller than most in my district, and I was always in awe of tributes in the games who could throw knives from long distances and hit their targets when I was small, and it inspired me to learn how to handle knives when I got older. Though, between you and I," Clove leaned forward confidentially and Caesar followed suit, curious. "If you asked me to chop vegetables, I wouldn't know where to begin."
Caesar laughed, throwing his head back. "You're secret's safe with us, Clove." He winked at the cameras. Enobaria grinned at Clove from the corner.
"Now, Clove," Caesar continued. "I don't know if you were aware, but there was quite the love affair going on in the area, between Katniss and Peeta from District Twelve. You found their little hiding spot, I know, but where you aware that they were romantically involved?"
"I knew he liked her, obviously," Clove replied, pausing to choose her words carefully. "But I didn't know she had similar feelings; she never seemed to treat him as though she did, in the time we were all together before the arena. If I had known, well, I think I would have waited a little longer to give them more time together, but ultimately; they would have killed me, and now I take comfort from the fact they are together for all eternity."
Caesar sighed softly. "I think we all will take comfort from that. But, speaking of romance," he raised his eyebrows teasingly, and Clove was slightly alarmed by his sudden change of mood, and that of those from the Capitol in the room the moment Caesar's second sentence was uttered. "Do you have a special someone back in District Two? That handsome young man that was interviewed for your personal story, perhaps?"
"Cato?" Clove asked. Caesar chuckled, smirking at the cameras.
"I mention handsome, and instantly she knows!"
Enobaria and Brutus and those from the Capitol laughed softly.
Clove willed her cheeks not to redden.
"We're joking, Clove!" Caesar placed a hand on her shoulder affectionately, pausing only to drop a very pointed wink to the cameras. "No, but really, if you could say anything to your loved ones, what would it be?" He gestured to the camera closest to her, and Clove turned to face it.
"Well, firstly, hello; I guess," she snickered, then continued. "Father, I hope you're healthy and I made you proud; and I'm looking forward to seeing you again. Cato, I hope you and your family are healthy and I'm looking forward to seeing you all again," a smirk curled around her lips. "Also Cato, I hope you've been training, because the first thing I'm going to do when I get home is kick your butt in training. Again. Repeatedly. Blindfolded, balanced on one leg with one hand and three fingers tied behind my back."
"Oooh!" Caesar laughed. "I think we'll have to get that on tape. Well, Clove: it's been a pleasure to have you, and I look forward to seeing you as a mentor in the Quarter Quell!"
"Yes, that should be interesting. Thank you Caesar." Clove smiled as the Capitol anthem blared.
"…Cut! Great job everyone!" someone said.
"We're out, Clove!" Trariti called. Clove said goodbye to Caesar and was immediately swamped by her prep team as she got up. Barely paying attention to their endless stream of chatter, Clove followed them to a car with blackened out windows where she found Brutus and Enobaria awaiting her.
"They loved you, darling," Enobaria cried as Clove fastened her seatbelt, "and after the victory tour they'll be worshiping the targets your knives hit, trust me."
Brutus laughed, leaning forward to consider Clove from beside Enobaria. "Can you really beat Cato blindfolded, balanced on one leg with one hand and three fingers tied behind your back? Because, no offense; he's about four times your size."
"None taken," Clove shrugged, "and I can hold a knife with two fingers."
Brutus shook his head. "You're crazy."
"Perhaps," Clove grinned.
The roar from the crowd on the platform of District Two's train station could be heard even before the train rounded the corner. Clove stood behind Brutus and Enobaria as the train came a halt at the station and the entrance to the train slid open. Brutus and Enobaria stepped onto the platform first, then a moment later, Clove followed, the roar now deafening.
Her father, a senior Peacekeeper, stood before her, smiling proudly. It was the first time Clove had seen him smile since the training incident that had killed both her mother and Cato's parents, almost four years ago, and as her father hugged her, Clove wondered if it wouldn't be the last. "I'm very, very, proud of you." Her father murmured. "You have brought pride not only to your district, but to your family." He pulled away from her and nodded to his right, grinning, "Now, go away."
Laughing, Clove turned. Cato, Aella and Caderyn stood a little way back.
"You've never beaten me in training," Cato smirked as he approached her.
"I always beat you in training," Clove smirked back, wrapping her arms around him as he hugged her, standing on the tips of her toes to burying her face in his neck.
"I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you, too." She replied softly, suddenly wishing time would freeze.
But, all too soon, it seemed, Brutus was coughing pointedly and she was forced to pull away. Nevertheless, Clove smiled as she greeted Aella and Caderyn and Enobaria lead the way from the train station to the Justice Building. She was home. Safe.
She wondered, a long time later, why she had had no premonition.
A/N: Please review! :)