An Unlikely Pair
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By: DarkGiggle
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I make no profit so please don't sue me.
Warnings: Un-beta'd and looking for a beta. Rating and violence level will go up.
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PART 18
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It is tense and louder today than the two days before. The Careers in particular are grunting and roaring as they savagely attack the dummies while scarcely any of the other tributes will approach the weapons. The Gamemakers above all look too bored to be bothered, except Mr. Crane who's eyes seem to be flitting around every where. All this is to be expected.
I spent my first half hour with Hawthorne reviewing the plants (scandalizing the instructor with each bite or sniff I took). I think I actually managed to impress him though the mood between us was still unclear. We parted after it and the next 30 minutes went to doing runs on the stealth course (I'd gotten better but the trainer was unhopeful). The hour after that was given to learning how to fight with a staff. Yesterday during dinner Mr. Abernathy complained about me not doing a close combat weapon and insisting the Careers and other tributes won't be coming at me empty handed. The first twenty minutes were an odd mix of getting my ass kicked by the specialist, just getting used to keeping a weapon in my hands and discovering that my skill with trajectory allowed me to dodge much better than I expected. The following forty were learning how to block instead of dodge and discovering I suck at attacking with a weapon (silly me for never having gone after anyone with a baseball bat).
My remaining time is going into learning dagger fighting like Haymitch wants but two things make it difficult. One is ignoring the District 2 Career going hog wild with the knives at the same station (I'm sure she is hitting the crotch of the manikins on purpose) and the other, more important reason is that daggers are really deadly weapons. My ripped sleeves, shirt and pant legs prove it.
Three whistles and three 'thunk's off to my far left. The blade stabs right at my chest but I manage to bring my own up in time to knock it off course. In the split second before the hand holding the enemy weapon can re-direct at a downward angle to come for my face I throw a left cross that ties up my opponent's other hand so my foot can sneak in a kick to his lower belly. The trainer goes stumbling back with a gasp that turns into a cough. He curses me under his breath (loud enough to hear from the balcony) and attacks anew. Four whistles, two perfect 'thunk's and two off target 'bap's. His free hand makes a fist in an upper cut that I use my own to block but it's a grab, not a hit he makes. The moment his fingers close on my forearm the dagger in his hand comes at me low, aiming for my guts. I twist, not breaking his hold yet putting us almost back-to-back and ram my elbow into his kidney. He grunts and collapses forward. Distantly I hear the whistling of flying knives stop. Without getting up he takes a slash at my legs rather than a stab, forcing me to jump back, it's his opening to spring up and charge. The specialist comes in with both his arms up, one swinging with the other stabbing. I wait until he is well stretched before I meet him dagger-to-dagger and fist-to-fist. I still can't use my full strength here at the station but I plan to push up to unbalance his extended body, turn into his unarmed side and knock him to the floor. The first part goes as expected, even the start of my parry works but then I hear it! This whistle is off, it sound's like Haymitch's knife. My eyes find it, the fast flying silver blur, that if I judge correctly, is headed for my neck! I don't have the time to shake off the instructor and move away, in fact my counter attack has me leaning into the blade's trajectory. I can't even pull my dagger up to-
Pain, a hard wrenching pain explodes in the base of my skull and I loose both my footing and weapon from the force yanking me harshly backwards. My back slams into something hard, it's solid and warm but still the pain does not cease. Instinctively my hands run to my head, down my braid and to the hand that has a tormenting hold on it. My fingers try to pry the firm large ones they find but they won't budge. My hair is yanked again, downward this time, forcing me to look up and up into icy blue eyes towering over me. The orbs that peer down at me are unreadable though a sudden knot in my stomach assures me it is nothing good. There is utter silence in the room so I'm sure everyone can hear my thundering heartbeat. I'm also sure that every eye is on us as they know I'm no safer now than I was a second ago.
The very edge of his mouth lifts (facial tick or what he calls a smirk?) "I saved you, shouldn't you be thanking me?" asks the Career from District 2.
A flush of indignation colors my cheeks, thank him while he is forcibly holding me to him, yanking my head backwards, exposing my throat and causing me pain? No, I don't think so because right now it just feels like he's trying to bully me and you never thank a bully for picking on you. Anyway, I know he has been eyeing me these last days like a number on his kill list, same as D1m and D2f, so did he save me for himself or some other reason? If the torrent of bloodlust in his eyes from the first morning was anything to go by he certainly didn't help me out of any sense of mercy. I try to dig his fingers out of my braid again as I spit out, "Maybe I will once you let go."
Something intense and hot shifts behind those ice blues that sets off a reaction in the rest of him. I tense as along my back, rear and legs his body begins to radiate a sense of strength and indomitable power that presses into me. How the hell is this even possible? Never-the-less my muscles locking seems to be what he is waiting for; the hand under mine slacks, the pain eases but instead of simply releasing me his right hand, with his sword held in a reverse grip, comes up to lay on my belly. I pale at the feel of a rough knuckle on my soft skin through a tear in my shirt. Yet it is the cold, sharp metal suddenly pressing against the inside of my open thighs that makes my heartbeat go insane. Is he really going to slice up my legs right here, right now? A blond eyebrow cockily elevates, as if to inquire, 'how about now?' and I am utterly speechless.
"That's enough Mr. Vici!" Shouts the Head Trainer and it's enough to force my eyes from him to her. She is marching forward with two more trainers flanking her, one of them Mr. Anton. "Let Miss Mellark go and return to your station." Further back behind them another trainer is halting a pissed off Gale.
At the sight of my angered teammate my senses snap back to me. No this thug isn't going to be slicing and dicing me up just yet, he'll have to wait a bit more. I push at his armed arm; he doesn't fight it so I effortlessly slip away. Once I'm out of easy reach (of even the sword), I send a nod to the Seam to reassure him that I'm fine. The hunter's return look seems unconvinced. Unease, adrenalin and aside, I really am all right somehow. No, not somehow, because of this Career I'm not bleeding out from my throat on the floor. Whatever his motivation, no matter what he is plotting, regardless of his thoughts towards me he kept me alive just then. Reluctantly I turn to him and say, "Thanks for saving my neck." It's awkward because I don't fully mean it, I don't trust him and he seems to know it. Hell everyone standing silently around us can tell, too. He sneers at me but I do sound ungrateful.
Heatedly he snaps, "I'd say you owe me more than that." He takes three steps towards me and it's like a tall wall of muscle walking; he really is so big. And so confident, the skilled Mr. Anton tries to block his path only to be totally ignored.
I hold my ground though part of me would like to step forward too, to match his posturing. Squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine seems like a partial substitute. My adrenaline is diminishing and allowing more rationality back into my brain. Even if he is a Career (and thus an awful sadistic bullying killer-to-be) I am grateful for my life and his twisted part in sustaining it. Whatever his actions or reasons, it's just nasty on my part not to at least say so. I take a breath, meet his eyes and tell him, "Thank you very much for saving my life," more earnestly this time.
It's definitely a smirk that appears now yet it's not cockiness that drips off it. Something has changed in this mercurial male again (he can't be stable). The heat in his eyes is still there but something indiscernible is behind it. "I don't think that covers it. Yeah, you definitely owe me more than that. It needs to be a more satisfying 'thank you'." There is a strange note to his tone and his eyes choose then to run over my neck.
What the heck is he talking about? I can feel the bone deep puzzlement taking over my face and apparently it sets him off with his own puzzled face. My mouth opens to ask, the words are on the tip of my tongue however Gale's familiar hand grabs me and shoves me in back of him before anything comes out. What the hell? I didn't need rescuing! I was fine!
"She said 'thank you' and that's all you're getting from her." I hear my teammate snap at him.
He catches my gaze and locks on over Hawthorne's shoulder. The blond brute is totally ignoring the Seam and as his own lips open I know it's to talk to me-
"This Is BULLSHIT!" The barked outcry cuts him off. "I Am NOT Leaving This Station!"
Oh what now?!
It's impossible not to look over at the infuriated Career after that deafening out burst. She is standing in a straight but aggressive posture as she faces off against Atala, whom seems to have left us for a more volatile tribute. The Head Trainer still has one other trainer with her (Mr. Anton is near us) and is looking very determined. "Ms. Krueger, you have lost the privilege to train at this station. You can move to another station or return to your floor for the remaining half hour, but you may not stay here."
Her weird orange-brown orbs are shooting fire into the smaller trainer, like she is trying to murder her with all the poisonous rage in her. "I don't see why, she's fine anyway." She spits out. Then to make a point she breaks the stare-down to sweep her odd eyes over to me. Once she sees me watching, her stance has the audacity to relax some and in a louder voice she announces, "It was a slip of the wrist." Then to take the whole cake she smirks at me.
Smirks at me!
That homicidal dipshit bitch fucker is smirking at me!
My face heats in fury and all thoughts of her district counterpart become a moot issue as I glare back! Her that has the gall to smirk at me with a knife in each hand and a horrified instructor not a foot away. Her that has the brazen balls to do it with of every one here watching her. She shrugs and mouths 'Oops.' Yeah, right, 'oops' my ass! If that was a mistake then I'm really a Capitol citizen! I stomp round the hunter to my dagger, snatch it up then mouth back to her 'bitch cheater.' The wimpier tributes take a dramatic collective gasp. Her face contorts into a ferocious scowl then slowly, oh so theatrically she raises a knife and runs it in front of her throat, in front of all other tributes, trainers and Gamemakers. Is that so? In reply I raise my middle finger to her. Now the Gamemakers join in on the collective gasp. Oh yes, it's on Cunt! And another thing you-
"Ms. Krueger, you will leave this training station." Atala interrupts again (she is so good that it). "Immediately." She growls lowly, and it's like a switch has been turned on. She no longer seems so cool, calm and composed as she has the rest of the time. It's something about her suddenly ink black eyes too, that now come off as creepy.
Finally D2f snorts and backs down. She throws the pair of knives from her right hand, they whistle through the air and she gets two perfect bullseyes in the dummy's eyes. The bitch gives once last menacing smirk to all of us watching then marches over to the Hand-to-Hand Combat Station. Arg! Okay, it's official, I don't like that twat.
Before I can think of doing anything well deserved Atala turns and pins me with her heavy black stare. It's a little intimidating (I have to hold back a flinch) but message received; she wants me to behave or she'll move me too. There really isn't a choice but to let it go at this point, not with so many watching at the ready. Not with my teammate already giving me such looks of disapproval. As for the huge Career beside him (Vici right?) he does a few glances between his partner and me before snorting and going back to sword training without a word. Too bad his leaving doesn't relax Gale any.
In a few short steps (wow his legs really are that long) my fellow tribute of 12 is in front of me and somehow calling me 'The-biggest-brain-dead-moron-of-all-time!' with just his face. I discover a couple things in that moment; one Gale can 'talk' with his expression and two it is very hard to argue with a face.
I try anyway, "She started it."
One dark eyebrow rises as if to say 'And-that-justifies-you-being-a-massive-idiot-and-painting-a-target-on-your-back-infront-of-every-person-here?' and takes browbeating to a whole new level.
"She threw a knife at my neck!" To add to my statement I point to the support column that ended up impaled in my stead; a third of the blade is sunk in. "This couldn't be avoided." I defend. The condemnation is unrelenting, damn it, talk man! "If it was you would you have done anything different?"
Very lowly, at last he chooses to speak, "Same as you but I know what I will do when she comes after me, do you?"
Good question… And with it I feel the weight and reality of my situation sink in. Crap. As much as I dislike the girl I do not want to kill her. Beat the bloody snot out her, most definitely but not end her. For all the horrid, villainous nightmare of a person she is, I'm sure she still has family, friends and people that care for her back in her district, just like me. Somehow, deep (super deep) down, I'm sure she is a relatively normal district citizen that does not deserve to die for the Capitol's amusement. Shit. A fight with her wouldn't be like back home where the loser can usually still limp away. Hell it might not even be a fight, she could just decide to kill me from afar, no warning, no fair shot. She's already proven to be a murderous cheat so no guaranty on what she'll do in the games. Oh I'm in more trouble than I realized. I'm of no help if I die the first day.
"We're wasting time talking instead of training." My teammate says out of the blue then stomps off. There is a new level of tension in his shoulders and neck that somehow I know are my fault. Fuck.
"Are you going to stand there or are we going to train?" Asks a voice from behind me, it is the bored dagger-fighting instructor. Twenty minutes left to train, I'm confused, flustered, angry, frustrated and emotionally unsteady. 'Suck it up, wimp.' I think and go at training like my life depends on it because it does.
When the buzzer sounds many make for the lunch doors to eat and wait for our private session with the Gamemakers. As announced this morning before training we will be going by district number, from lowest to highest and boy then girl. The thing is that this time the doors do not open.
A low tone goes off from the above and we all turn to look. "Attention tributes," says Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane and scans us to be sure we are listening (as if we're stupid enough to ignore him). "It has been decided that your lunch will be served on your floors. Your mentors will be joining you shortly and they will inform you when we call you down. For now go to the elevator and only enter with your district partner." His sharp aqua orbs fall on to me then flick to D2f. "Do so quietly and do not cause the staff any problems. That is all."
Oops. The weight of many eyes press down on me. Thanks Mr. Crane, just thanks so much for making it strikingly obvious why we are separating. Guess you couldn't just let it go and now you don't trust us in the cafeteria alone. There is no need to look to know gray eyes are on me too, can practically feel them on the back of my skull. I just wonder if his eyebrows are finally going to merge this time.
We are stark quiet as we line up for the lift; ordered from one to twelve with out having to be told (it's sad we're so programmed for this). The tension only dissipates once all of the single digit districts have left and the silence when tiny 11 speaks up.
"Peeta, are you alright?" She whispers softly, but her concern is evident in her voice and even more in her big doe eyes. Behind her the tributes from 10 leave.
For a split second déjà vu shocks me then my wits kick in and I smile my brightest, friendliest smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. It'll take a lot more than what she can dish out to rattle me." It's totally untrue, but I refuse to scare her. She is too young and too innocent for this shit, no need to make it worse. "Thanks for asking but what about you? How are you?"
Her small, thin shoulders shrug neutrally however the slightest of trembles show how uneasy she is.
"You'll be fine, Rue." Gale inserts with an easy calm and a warm smile. "Just keep your mind on your focus and you'll be fine." As he says this he taps his finger to his temple then winks roguishly at her. He makes the very picture of cocky confidence, on the outside.
LeClaire, clever girl, seems to pick up on what he means but does not make mention of it besides a short nod. The elevator doors open behind her.
"Don't underestimate yourself. We're both sure you'll get a good score." Is all I can think to say (I've never cheered anyone but my brothers on and that was more along the lines of 'Beat that wimp! Give him a limp!'), yet she smiles anyway.
Huge 11 then her enter and she just has time to tell us 'Good luck you guys,' prior to the doors sliding shut. Once she's gone, the mood in the air nose-dives into something bleak.
"She's too young for this bullshit." My teammate spits out.
I grunt in accord, since at this second there aren't words strong enough for how much I agree. Our ride is silent, I can't get her smile out of my head and he may be the same.
Food, far too much as (grotesquely) usual, is set out by the time we reach our floor and we dig in. We're only about half way through when the faux-calm is shattered by Mr. Abernathy's booming arrival.
"What Did You Do?!" He angrily shouts. His face is flushed, his eyes are flashing and his lips are so tight they seem pale and paper-thin. He looks so pissed and fierce I unconsciously lock up. This brings my doom and his raging grays to me. Oh, crap I'm in trouble!
"Answer Me Now!" He demands with a snarl and stomps right to me.
"Haymitch please stop shouting! We need to be able to hear their side of things." Ms. Trinket (previously unnoticed in the wake of our mentor's enterance) says cajolingly. "I'm sure the rumors were far exaggerated. Look, they seem fine."
Mr. Abernathy doesn't answer, doesn't say a word but he does lean down into my personal space to look me dead in the eye from just six inches away.
I never imagined that under his lackluster mask he could be so fiery and forceful. I'm caught flatfooted and flustered so the words just tumble out. "Career threw a knife at me but another Career saved me, she got in trouble and pissed me off so I pissed her off, then she promised to kill me so I flipped her off. But then we went back to training and then came up here that's it so it was all her fault!"
Our mentor blinks slowly while our escort freezes behind him. He pauses a sec then says, "You want to run that by me again sweetheart?" This time his voice is controlled back down to normal volumes.
"The Career girl from yesterday sent a throwing knife for my neck while I was training, I couldn't get out of the way on my own, her district partner pulled me out of the way-" "That's not all he did." Hawthorne growls but I press on. "She got moved to a different station but before that she mouthed 'oops' and I mouthed back, then she cut in front of her throat and I gave her the finger and-"
"YOU DID WHAT!?" This time it's Trinket that shrieks. "IN FRONT OFEVERYONE? INFRONT OFTHE GAMEMAKERS!?" Her voice is piercing, unbearably shrill and for no sane reason should I nod but I do. Off she goes!
"ALLTHATWORKMAKINGYOUDECENT MAKINGYOUPRESENTABLETOTRUESO CIETY TOERASINGTHEDARKSTAINTHATYOU AREFROMTWELVE-" High, loud and very fast in her Capitol accent!
Pain erupts in my ears and I cover them yet it's no use, she's too close.
"Effie!" I hear our mentor try, only because he is so near.
"ATTURNINGYOUFROMBARBARIANSIN TOVICTORS! AHAHA ICOULDJUSTSCREAM IAMSOMAD ALLMYHOPESDOWNTHEDRAINDONEIN BYTHATATROCIOUSFINGER-"
The sound of her strident screeching is penetrating into my brain! Ack! Did she just go an octave higher?!
"EFFIE!" The Seam tries again, and though his deep sound is a small relief it does not stop the onslaught.
"SOHORRENDOUSLYRUDESOUNCLUTH SOCRUDELYILLMANNERED! IWILLBEAPPOLOGIZINGFORMONTHS ANDITWILLBEYEARSBEFOREICANEV ENAPROACHSLORCUS ANDEMILANWILLBANALLFUTUREBAR BARIANSFROMHERGATHERINGSFORE VER! SOFORGETABOUTEVERGOINGTOHERA GAIN-"
OW FUCK! Her voice is breaking my ears! And my mind! It must be because I swear she's turning bluish.
"EFFIE! EFFIE!" Gale tries uselessly.
"OHSHEWILLHAVETWELVEBLACKBALL EDFORSURE! OHHOWCOULDYOUSHOWSUCHCLASSLE SSNESSTOTHEGAMEMAKERS? DIDYOUNOTEVENTHINKABOUTTHERE PERCUSSIONSNOTTHINK-"
She's melting my brain! She's going to kill us all, her included because she's definitely turning blue in the face but not stopping!
"Euphemia!" Haymitch yells.
Silence. My ears ring for a bit then sweet blissful, silence. Oh thank the stars she stopped.
Our escort stands stiff and hard as frozen iron, slowly her violet gazes travels from me to him. In contrast her face goes from blueberry blue to her normal chalk white to a vivid hot pink quite quickly. Her lips purse and her eyes narrow a smidgeon, "I thought I told you never to call me that."
The elder Seam nods and makes an expression that is the picture of contrite (yeah right, there's no way that's not fake). "Ah, that's right you did, Eu- er, Effie." He smiles dastardly at her. "It won't happen again, Effie."
It's a lie and we all know it but her name's Euphemia?!
Part 18 End.
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Side Note: Cato Vici comes from "veni, vidi, vici" which is Latin for, "I came, I saw, I conquered." Clove Krueger, yes Freddy, I know, but it stuck the best out of some truly awful alternatives. Oh and about Effie's caterwauling, I've tried to fix it several times but for some reason it always turns out like that. Not sure what's going wrong.
So sorry for the month long wait. I'll try to have the next part on Monday. Again, so sorry for the ridiculously long wait.