Sorry about the wait, I've been sick for the last few weeks and could barely roll out of bed. :( I'm actually struggling a bit with this language wise, I use a lot of cuss words in my writing and around the time this is set I guess they didn't really have any. I don't own The Hunger Games.
"Damn." Clove heard a knight mutter as she approached the five that were training. "She's come to beat us up."
Smirking, Clove ran a hand across the rack of swords. As princess, she was allowed to interfere with or help the training of knights. The fact that it annoyed her brother was an added bonus. Her hand settled on a sword, three from the end of the rack on the left, that was at least a year old. She could tell from the dents and scratches, even though it was shiny. The knights had obviously deemed it to be a good, useable blade otherwise the servants would not have bothered to polish it. Besides, Clove liked her swords a little worn. She pulled a knife from her belt and hurled it at the knight that had muttered. It stuck tip-first into the armour surrounding his heart and he gaped at her in shock.
"The first rule of any battleā¦" Clove twirled the blade in her left hand and stepped closer to the knights. "Is to be prepared for any sudden movement or attack."
The knight from the far left ran at her and she hit the ground in a ball like position, tripping him.
"See? I didn't know it was coming, but I was prepared." Clove explained. She readjusted the breast plate she was wearing, the only armour she wore. After all, if you were caught up in a fight armour-less you would have nothing but your body to protect you. She intended to use hers as best as she could, but training the knights guaranteed a few injuries.
"How can we be prepared for something we don't know is coming?" One of the knights asked.
"It's simple, just-" Clove was cut off by a knight swinging a fist at her face. She shot backwards a step before grabbing his wrist and she pulled him towards her, forcing his hand behind his back.
"Never turn your back, never let your guard down and expect your opponent to pull any kind of dirty trick." She finished her sentence before releasing the knight.
"I have a question." Clove turned away from the knights at the sound of a calm, all too recognizable voice. The speaker wore a grey, tattered cloak with the hood pulled down over his face. Clove didn't have to see his face; she knew who it was. She rolled her eyes at him and sighed.
"Speak, then."
"How are your noble knights going to defend the crown against attackers if they can't even defend themselves against the princess?" The smirk was evident in his voice, and Clove could have sworn he sneered the word 'noble'.
"Watch your tongue, or I may just cut it out." The knight Clove had previously floored said, and drew his sword.
"Stand down." Clove snorted. "He's right."
"When am I not?" He asked.
"I wouldn't know. I don't associate with the likes of you." Clove scowled.
"Fight me." The guy in the cloak, Cato, challenged. He pulled a wicked hunting knife from his belt. Is he really that upset? Clove thought herself. Is he really so upset that he wants me dead?
"Drop the weapon now or we will kill you." One of the knights threatened. Clove almost laughed out loud. Sure, the knights were good at fighting. They had to be. But Clove had trained Cato herself, and she had been trained by her father. He had been taught by Clove's grandfather, who had been taught by one of the greatest warriors Panem had ever seen.
"Sir Brutus, Sir Gloss. Tell your men to stand down." Clove sighed. "We'll talk this out like civilized beings."
"But-" One of the other knights started.
"Do you really want to defy me, Sir Blight?" Clove interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head. "That's what I thought. You're all dismissed."
"As you wish your highness." Gloss said. The knights bowed to Clove before exiting the training courtyard. When she was sure nobody else was around, she spoke.
"What are you doing here Cato? It's like you want to get yourself killed."
"Fight me." He repeated, shrugging as he pushed his hood down and then removed his cloak completely. Clove's breath caught in her throat when she saw vivid red claw marks streaking down his right forearm.
"What the hell happened?" Clove asked, gesturing to the scratches.
"Nothing." Cato muttered, pulled his sleeve down over the vertical scratches. He didn't want Clove to know that he had tried telling his mother the truth about his father so she had attacked him. When she had woken up the next day, it was like nothing had happened and she had asked for her husband.
"Whatever, I'm not gonna fight you." Clove started to turn away from him, but he sprang forwards and grabbed her left wrist. Her sword clattered to the ground. Scowling, Clove pulled a knife from her belt and lunged at Cato. He jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding the blade. He performed a move, that Clove shamefully admitted she had taught him, that sent her knife spinning down next to her sword.
"Don't use my own moves against me." She snarled as Cato pounced. They tumbled to the ground and Cato pressed his left arm against Clove's throat.
"I'm going to use these moves," He whispered in her ear. "To win the tournament."
"That's cool, now get off of me." Clove sighed, wriggling in an attempt to get free.
"Do you know what my request will be?"
"Yes. You want money and a job and stuff, now get off of me."
"For once, your highness, you're wrong." Cato smirked. "I'm leaving home when I win. Trix and Buck will be better off without me; Buck earns enough to take care of Trix and mom. They can always sell something if things get drastic. I'll send them medicine for mom using my cut from the betting pool."
"What are you going to ask for instead?" Clove asked. She was surprised that Cato would even think about leaving his family, but he was kind of right. Knights hated thieves, and if Cato got caught they may take it out on his family.
"You." He replied, removing his arm from her throat.
"Me?"
"I haven't known you that long, but I'm pretty sure you'd rather marry me than that ass of a prince that you're meant to marry."
"I don't know what to say." Clove replied. He was giving up her family for her, and she cursed herself for not even being able to say 'thank you'.
"Is it okay for me to do that?" Cato asked, blushing. Like I'd say no. Clove thought. Her heart already soared at the thought of marrying Cato. She tugged on his shirt, pulling his mouth down to hers.
"Well, you'd better win."
