Author's Note: Both Aces and Gale are seventeen and Katniss is fifteen, Posy is fourteen. Prim is eleven, and Vick is four. Also, Rooba is merchant for this story, just cause it works better.
I wait by the chariot and Haymitch comes out soon with Sam next to him. He's wearing a grey suit designed like mine, and he has red streaks in his golden merchant hair.
"Your hair looks… nice." He says awkwardly. I attempt to smile, but it just turns into a grimace.
"Thanks. Yours too."
And that's the end of our conversation. Haymitch helps me up into the chariot and Sam climbs up next, and we wait for it to start moving.
District four is already going out, decked in blues and greens. It won't be too much longer now.
I try to think of what to do. I won't cry this time, I would ruin the paint.
I'm still contemplating this when the horse jerks forward, and I clutch onto Sam's arm to keep from falling off. He steadies me, but doesn't remove my arm. I look up, blinded by the sun, and then deafened by yells.
"Aces! Aces!" They chant, and when my eyes catch the big screens, I see why.
With my red hair highlighted with the colors of flames, it really did look like I was a piece of coal on fire. My hair was down and blowing furiously in the wind behind me.
I also realize that with me clutching tightly to my district partner it makes me look small and weak and young. And innocent.
And not a threat.
Therefore, not a target.
So I don't let go.
About halfway down the runway though, I smile timidly at the crowd and raise my other hand, waving tentatively.
The crowd goes wild.
I wave more. Smile more innocently. More like a child. And then I let go of Sam's arm and blow kisses out to all the odd people on either side of me, waving my hands at everyone I can, even catching a couple roses here and there.
As our chariot pulls to a stop and put a small yellow daisy behind my ear, the color standing out nicely with my hair.
Snow addresses the people of Panem. The tributes. The crowd of Capitalites. And then it's over and we are walking inside.
And all I can think is, I can't wait to go to bed.
I wake up to the sun shining brightly through the curtains. I slept much better last night than the night before. Don't ask me why, I don't know.
I turn over and look at the little digital clock on the table beside my bed.
It's 6:38. I sigh and sit up, feeling as my hair frizzed out and made a red halo behind me. I grabbed some new clothes and walked into the bathroom to take a shower.
I scrubbed my hair for somewhere around ten minutes, but the colors wouldn't come out.
Oh God.
Is this permanent?!
I give up after a few more handfuls of shampoo and move on to washing my face and everything else.
I dry off quickly, it's cold in the bathroom, and pull on the training outfit that was left out for me. It's tight, almost like a unitard but in two pieces. The shorts go down to about mid thigh and the sleeves are short, they don't make it too far over my shoulder.
This time Haymitch is at the table already too.
"Good morning, Scarlet." Haymitch said, taking a drink from his flask. I frown and sit down at the table.
"What?"
"Scarlet. Your new nickname, kid."
I scoff, "I think I like 'kid' better." I say, rolling my eyes and piling food on my plate.
"Too bad. Now, you got any useful talents?" He asks.
I shrugged, "I mean, I guess I'm not too bad with a knife, but I usually only used cleavers, so…" Haymitch nods.
"Here," he says, handing me a knife. "Throw this, I want to see what "not too bad" is." I take the knife carefully. It's small, lightweight. Butter knife.
I've never actually used one of these before, so the weight is a little off throwing, but I throw it anyways.
I aim at the pear in a fruit bowl across the dining room, and it sticks right in the middle.
I turn back to Haymitch, who looks slightly impressed. Effie looks very disappointed in us. Then Sam comes in.
"Good, what's your skills?" Haymitch says, getting right down to business.
"Uh… I work at the tailors. I don't really have any skills…" he says awkwardly. Haymitch frowns.
"Okay, I take back my statement from the other day. You won't make it past day two."
I roll my eyes again and rip off a piece of bread, dipping it in the hot chocolate in front of me. I've only had it once before, Grandma got a little for my ninth birthday. It's probably my favorite thing in the world.
"Training starts today. Sam, I want you trying everything. Aces, practice a little with a few different knives, but not a lot. I don't want people to see what you can do just yet. We're going to keep playing up the weak girl act. Maybe trip a few times." Haymitch instructs. I nod and stand up with Sam.
"Off you go!" Effie says. We get into the elevator and the Avox inside pushes a button, causing it to drop quickly.
When the doors open we get our first look of the training center. We're one of the first pairs here. I go straight for the plants, I don't want to go out in the first day because I didn't know what to eat.
I spend twenty minutes on that, and I'm no expert of course, but at least I know the difference between raspberries and poisonous berries now. After that I go to the camouflage station, but give up after merely five minutes. Art has always been my weak area.
Next I head over to the climbing ropes, and give it a try. I get maybe ⅓ up before I remember what Haymitch told me. I look below me and reach up, purposely missing the rung. I fall down, it was only about five feet, and cringe as my back hits the cold floor.
Laughter rings out and I look over at the Careers by the swords. I shake my head and stand up, walking over to where the weights are. I start off with ten, adding five after a little bit.
I add more weight until I reach thirty, and then I can't go anymore than that for fear of someone noticing that I'm not as weak as I look.
Years of swinging cleavers and axes have given me quite a bit of muscle.
On the way to lunch I trip myself up, landing on my face and giving myself a bloody nose on accident. Oh well, at least I look really incompetent now.
They stop the bleeding quickly and I'm ushered off to eat.
My eyes never leave the knife station from the moment I stand up to take care of my tray. I walk over there slowly, looking around to make sure no one is watching before I grab one of the knives.
I flip it around in my hand a few times to get a feel for the weight, before bringing my arm up and flicking my wrist out. It sticks in the shoulder of the target board. I huff and grab another one, hitting the liver area this time.
That's better, I guess.
The next one I grab is longer, more like the ones we used in the shop. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I blow out the air slowly and open my eyes. I aim, and throw.
It hits right between the eyes.
And I think that's when Haymitch would want me to stop. I pretend to shudder and have a small mental breakdown, so everyone thinks I wouldn't actually be able to bring myself to kill someone like that.
But I know I could. And I will.
I look around after that for twenty minutes, just watching everyone else train. The girl from one is great with a sword. The boy from two is not bad with a bow. The girl from five is busy climbing, way higher than I got. I make mental notes of who is going to be my greatest competition.
I hate to think that I'm going to have to kill these people in a matter of days.
After that I stick to the survival stuff. I quickly learn how to start a fire, how to tie a snare. How to weave leaves and sticks to make a blind. I learn which water is safe to drink and which is not. And then I head back over to the plant screen.
I'm much faster this time, clicking on what's good as soon as I see it, mostly. I'm about five minutes in when I hit what I thought was a blueberry. The screen goes red and the words 'Tribute Death' flash on the screen. I cringe and read the explanation. What I thought was a blueberry was something called Nightlock. Apparently very poisonous. I take an extra five minutes just studying this berry. I don't want to make the same mistake in the arena.
After that I move on to the medical plants that could help heal certain wounds I might, and most likely will, get.
I look around and see Sam struggling to wield a simple knife. The instructor is trying and failing miserably to show him. I sigh and walk over there.
He may be my competition, but I don't think he'll get very far anyways. And I couldn't deal with the guilt of knowing he couldn't even wield a knife to protect himself with in the arena.
"Here. Let me see it." I say, holding out my hand. He looks at me in shock and confusion for a moment, before placing the knife in my hand.
"Watch me." I bring my arm up and close my left eye, before releasing the blade with a flick of my wrist. It sticks in the chest.
"W-What? How did you do that?" He asks.
"You need to close your non-dominant eye when trying to aim. And you don't need to bring your arm so far back. Oh, and your barely have to move your wrist, just a small movement to get it flying. The more you move your wrist, the more uncontrollable it gets." I say. He nods and grabs another one. He follows my tips and finally throws it, hitting the board in the thigh area. I nod.
"That's a lot better. He'd be down for at least a few seconds, which gives you a running start." I say, walking away.
I might regret helping him later, but I feel much better for the time being.