My first Hunger Games fic! I recently discovered the books (thanks to my obsessed friend) and love them xxx Gale is one of my favourite characters – I may write more about him...
I have only read the first book.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games (because why else would I be writing Fanfiction?)
It had been the beginning of the end of his world. After that day, the world had started to crumble around him in fire and glitter and blood.
The day of the Reaping.
The day he'd realised he loved her.
oOo
He had been laying in bed, early in the morning, stomach rumbling loudly with hunger. This day could change his life. He could be picked for the Hunger Games, forced to kill or die, live on television.
Or Katniss could be selected, his best friend. The only one he could be himself around.
Why couldn't they just run away?
A soft snore broke him from his thoughts, a reminder of why they had to stay. Their families. Their families, whom without them, would starve to death.
But, as always, he couldn't shake his wishful thought.
oOo
He saw her later on. He'd traded a squirrel for a loaf of bread that had not been worth the badly shot animal (Katniss was much better with a bow than he was. Snare's were his thing.) The baker had been sympathetic.
On this day even the meanest of people showed a heart.
She had come bearing fresh goat's cheese, a gift from Prim's goat, the one that had been worth the risk that they had taken - the potential waste of money that could've happened. Luckily it hadn't.
But like everything else in this life, it took a risk. A risk that could have ended with either life or death, for far more than themselves.
He'd met her in the woods, at their usual spot. He was the only one who could surprise her.
And she was the only one who could surprise him.
Their conversation had started off as normal – playful and sarcastic. But then the conversation had turned towards the Capitol (mocking their ridiculous accents and obscene fashion sense) and the Reaping and the chances of either of them being chosen. It could happen. He prayed it didn't.
And he couldn't help it.
His earlier thought burst out of him.
And like he though, she hated it.
She wasn't a romantic. Sometimes that was one of the many things he liked about her. Other times (like now) he hated it. Why couldn't they pretend, just for a minute? But she was too practical for that – and she would never abandon her family. Not as her mother had done when her father had died. She cared too much about her sister.
It was one of her virtues.
oOo
He later hated this thought.
It was the Reaping. Tensions were running high – particularly hid, with forty-two slips of paper in that glass container spelling out his doom.
The girls were first, as always.
Effie Trinket, a typical Capitol woman with that annoying voice and horrendous pink wig; who would carefully direct two innocent children towards their deaths with manicured nails and pointy high heels, was standing on stage. She didn't seem to even care what her mere presence symbolized to District 12. Two families would be in mourning tonight. He hoped his own would not be one of them.
"Primrose Everdeen!"
There was a shocked silence – everyone, the Seam or otherwise, adored Prim, she was the kind of person you couldn't help but like. With her long blonde curls and innocent blue eyes, she didn't fit in with the rest of the Seam and neither did her kind, caring demeanour to everyone. People in the Seam were fighters, survivors; kind but like a thorn bush – you couldn't get too close without the prickles.
Prim drew everyone towards her like moths drawn to a flame.
Katniss cared too much for her sister. Looking at Prim's pale and shocked face, he knew what would happen next, even if Prim herself had not yet realised it.
And, as if that thought was a cue, there was a shout. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"
Yes, he thought, holding on tightly to a thrashing Prim. He was wrong.
It wasn't one of her virtues after all.
But he loved her for it (and didn't that thought scare him half to death).
"Up you go Catnip."
oOo
He went to see her before she left. The other tribute was a blonde boy, the baker's son. He felt a small pang of sympathy but squashed it quickly – if Katniss was going to come home then the baker's son (Peter? Peeta?) had to die.
As sorry as he was that that was what had to happen, he wasn't going to let Katniss go.
When they'd spoken, she had been afraid, terrified, and was hiding it well. She knew that she couldn't show any kind of weaknesses in front of the cameras – the kind that could be later exploited.
She had mainly been concerned for her family. Luckily, the pair of them had long since made a pact – if either of them were chosen, the other would help provide for their families. Just in case.
Stop thinking like that, he told himself sternly.
She had to survive.
Catnip was a survivor.
oOo
An eleven – she'd scored an eleven! Even higher than the career tributes. This was both good and bad.
She would be sponsored by more people – rich people, eager to support the 'winner'.
But she'd be a target for the other tributes. With the highest score, she was a threat. Looking at the boy from District 2, he wouldn't like that.
But he was with Prim and her mother. He couldn't break down now. Not yet. Prim couldn't lose him and Katniss. Her mother had proved once that she couldn't cope.
"Still room for improvement," he murmured.
Prim choked out a small laugh.
oOo
She was beautiful. Magnificent. Glorious, and a thousand other adjectives beside.
She was on fire.
She was holding the baker's son's hand - tightly. Like the world would stop if she let go. Jealousy burst through him like wildfire.
But he knew.
He knew, looking at her holding his hand and giggling and twirling, what was going on. What would happen.
She wasn't his anymore – she belonged to the Capitol and their games. She would never be free again.
The thing Gale regretted the most was the fact that he'd never told her he loved her.
And now he never could.
Please review! I haven't had many lately...