A/N: Jan 08 - Huge edit of Chapter 1
Preview of Chapter 2: White & Blue
She is so excited for the Victory Tour, that her eyes water with joy and hope every time she thinks about it. Home, she thinks wondrously, with a desire so potent she can taste it. I can finally go home.
Then she gets on the train, and sees Cato draped languidly on the couch. He smirks at her, saying without actually speaking: not yet, Clover.
...
-Clove is in a wedding gown, contemplating how best to kill her future husband.
…
She gets a visit and is left with a white rose as a souvenir to remember it by.
"A gift for the newest addition to our family."
A gift. Clove mocks, cutting herself on the thorns. A warning, a threat, a promise.
"Thank you, Mr. President."
"Please Clove," he smiles as he puts his heavy hand on her shoulder. "Call me Grandfather."
A warning, a threat, a promise.
Don't forget who you truly serve now.
...
-The first time Clove suspects she is pregnant, she drinks enough alcohol to poison herself and the little monstrosity growing inside of her. The idea of bringing another Cato into this world is enough to drive her mad with rage and grief and horror.
...
-Brutus is the one who finds her with a bloody coat hanger, collapsed and shaking in the corner of the bathroom on the train.
...
-Enobaria gives her pills in secret, tells her to hide them somewhere Cato will never find them.
Clove hugs her then, tight, thanking her for taking the risk to get her them.
…
-Her secret friendship with Finnick is both a necessity and a liability. Necessary for her sanity, and a liability for both of their longevity. Cato would probably force her to bed him in front of Finnick, or have Finnick flogged to death in front of her, or maybe even force her to be the one to flog Finnick to death, if he ever suspected she spent time alone with the District 4 Victor.
…
"I can't keep living like this." she admits that evening, one drunk to another.
"Most of us have been dead for a long time," counsels Haymitch.
She isn't sure if she appreciates his honesty, but she laughs so hard she cries, so there's that. She was convinced she had used up all her tears.
...
Clove is the youngest female Victor in history.
The Capitolites think she is a doll. They paste her and Cato on magazine covers, cooing over the picturs as both of them smiling at each other in the most perfect(ly artificial) marital bliss. She stands beside him, holding his hand in every one of President Snow's Capitol addresses. Every time they are interviewed and she is asked questions about him, she gushes about how kind Cato is. She lets them know how gallant, attentive, and noble he is. How she wouldn't have survived the games without him. How she is just the luckiest girl in the world to have his attention and love. {the words are white rose petals, slipping through her lips and slicing her tongue with their edges as they exit}
...
The Capitolites think she is a doll.
(Her district thinks she is a snob. Her siblings hate her. The other Victors pity her. The outer districts and incoming tributes affectionately know of her as the girl who whored her way into being a Victor.)
...
-She runs through the forest, scared out of her fucking mind. The spear whizzes by her head, so close the wind from it brushes her cheek. She is terrified. Tree, tree, root, root, she runs, jumps, runs, ducks, runs, dodges, runs. She doesn't doubt she will die today. Cato knew. He knew what she had done.
"You better keep running Clover!" He laughs. "You're not going to like what happens if I catch you!"
...
-She feels his weight on top of her, a blade to her neck, his breath racing and his eyes clouded in fury. I'm going to die. She thinks. After everything I fought through, after everything he put me through, after everything I survived, I'm going to die. She had ran as fast as she could, but she knew Cato wouldn't have let her free even if she had passed his little test. She comes back from her thoughts and realizes Cato is still gloating. She tries to ignore it. Tries to ignore all his salacious remarks and horrible insults (it's not like they're new). His right hand lets the knife dance above her stomach and she can no longer keep silent. "I'm pregnant." She gasps out, hating herself for how weak it sounds (though the hoarseness is mostly secondary to his left hand doing a fine job of trying to crack her trachea).
Cato rolls his eyes. To be frank, he isn't sure he cares. Even if she loses this brat, if he actually wanted one, he could just put another inside her.
...
-Clove watches Katniss volunteer for her sister, and she understands. She understands what it means to give up everything for your siblings. She prays, fervently, that Katniss will win and make it back home. (At least one of them should).
...
-At every Capitol event they attend, Cato plays his part brilliantly. He calls her Clover endearingly, kisses her cheek at every chance. She hears them all swoon as they gossip amongst themselves, all the Capitol socialites. They gush loudly about how kind he is, how gallant he is, how attentive he is to his pretty young wife, how noble he is to marry a girl from the Districts, and isn't she just the luckiest girl in the world to have his attention and love.
{petals, more and more petals; the thorns are scratching her throat on their way out, perhaps sh'll get lucky and choke on the blood}
...
-When Katniss and Peeta win together, Clove feels something that she hasn't known in the past two years. She feels hope.
...
That night, with her husband's sleep-heavy arm draped across her stomach like a chain and his deep breaths brushing her neck, Clove thinks. She thinks and thinks and thinks. A rebellion is coming, and when it does, she will help them every step of the way. And if they ask Clove to dispose of her husband? Well, they won't need to ask, she'll volunteer.