Trials and Tribulations
For the next few days, Clara and Grantaire hardly spoke to each other at all. Grantaire continued around the training stations with Jennifer and Clara was being put through a personality transformation with Annie. A bond you make with someone when your death seems such a fixed event, is something very few people can understand. But for some reason, in the 70th Hunger Games, honest friendships were formed which would never be forgotten.
Clara and Annie's fighting skills were improved to a standard not even their trainer could have predicted. The knife-throwing trainer was a relatively young man name Messal, a Captiol citizen who of course had grown up with the Games, but had never entirely agreed with them. Nevertheless he became a trainer, as it was the only career that really appealed to him in his youth. Now he was stuck in a line of work that involved sending countless children to their deaths. In hindsight he reckoned it wasn't such a good career move.
Before long, training was over and everyone was getting ready for their private session. Haymitch had gathered Clara and Grantaire together to tell them not to hold anything back. Any skill they had in their back pocket, take it out and use it. This was not the time to be humble; they had to be a bigger show off than Benedict from 1. Or Marcus and his new make-up.
All the tributes were put in a small room to await their turn. The Careers went in first, as confident and smug as ever, then the two from three. They were, in word, geeks. No one gave them a second thought; they would be dead in the blood bath while making some calculations about the square metre footage of the Cornucopia. Then again, there was that boy Beetee, from years and years ago. He worked for the Capitol now but his Games were something to remember. Grantaire's mother used to tell him about how brilliant his mind was, and that was one thing she and the Capitol agreed on.
Next was Annie's district partner, who refused to look at her, and then Annie herself. Clara gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting her go. Before Grantaire knew it Jennifer was being called in, and then Callum. He and Clara hadn't spoken since that first day in training. Callum had transformed into a muscular almost Career, and everyone knew he was one to watch in the Arena.
Then it was just Clara and Grantaire left. They sat in silence waiting for Grantaire's name to be called.
'Remind you of anything?' he asked with sick humour. He forced a laugh and then saw Clara was not playing along.
'You know, this is probably the last time we'll get to say anything to each other, if there is anything….'
'Not really,' Clara replied. 'We've both found allies I think.'
'We could all join together? You, me, Jen, Annie….'
'Don't,' Clara interrupted him. 'Just…..don't.'
'Sorry,' Grantaire said. 'I was just trying to give us the best chance of survival.'
'But we can't all survive can we Grantaire?'
She had him there.
'Who do you want to survive? Yourself? Jen? Can you make that decision because I sure as hell can't.'
If it came down to it, could Grantaire kill Jen? Of course not, Jen didn't have a bad bone in her body, she was so sweet and innocent. How could he repay her act of kindness by being her murderer?
'These Games are sick,' he said decidedly.
'You're only just figuring that out now?'
'Will Edwardo Grantaire from District 12 please make his way to the Training Room,' said an automated voice from above them.
He got up to leave.
'Good Luck,' Clara told him, with a hint of a smile.
'Good luck,' he said back. 'I mean it.'
'Edwardo Grantaire from 12,' Grantaire said looking up at his judges.
'Please, go ahead and make it quick,' said Venice Beecham, the Head Gamemaker.
'Charming,' muttered Grantaire. He immediately went over to the Hand-to-Hand combat station, and set up the simulation.
He closed his eyes as the simulation loaded, making sure his mind was blank and imagining he was back in 12, watching the older boys play fight with each other in the streets. He remembered one time watching Courfeyrac and Enjolras fight it out with Harry and Freddie shouting support at each one respectively. How he longed for a family like them. All too soon he was brought back to reality.
He opened his eyes and saw the first ghost coming towards him. Grantaire knocked him out with one smooth punch to the jaw. He was attacked from his left; Grantaire swept the ghost off his feet and slammed him to the ground. One came at him straight on. With brute strength Grantaire lifted him up and flipped him over his head, simultaneously knocking out another ghost coming up behind him. The simulation threw ghost after ghost towards Grantaire's bold frame, and each one promptly met their demise. Finally, his test was over, and the judges looked borderline impressed.
He left feeling a strange sense of pride. He was the weak, underfed boy from District 12 no more.
'Clara Courfeyrac from 12,' Clara mimicked Grantaire's introduction.
'Are you as good as your District partner?' one man chuckled. 'I doubt it, but at least you've got your looks.'
Clara wondered whether climbing up and punching that man in the face would gain her a good mark. Wisely, she decided against it.
She marched over to the knife throwing station, and from then on everything was a blur. She took Messal's advice, she didn't think. Knife after knife sunk into the dummies' chests, each making a satisfying sound as if actually ripping into another person's flesh. Sweat stuck Clara's fringe to her forehead but she didn't stop, she had a pack of 15 knives on her back and each one hit the target perfectly.
She strode out not even bothering to look at the Gamemakers, who consequently were more impressed by the show District 12's tributes had put on than all of the others put together.
'So I said, darling if you're saying not happy with what I'm wearing then you really don't understand the boundaries of this relationship. I mean you insult my clothes you insult my soul, do you hear me? So that was the end of my relationship with Frelinda, a good girl at heart but not much upstairs if you pardon the…'
Marcus burst out laughing at his own joke. Haymitch likewise found the account very amusing, but then again he'd had so much to drink he found a spider in his room and called in the Capitol's most ingenious invention yet. No one was quite sure what he actually thought it was.
Clara and Grantaire were sitting with Marcus, Haymitch and their two stylists. They were all waiting for the scores to be announced, and there was much anticipation. Clara and Grantaire were trying to keep their expectations low, but each was privately rather proud of their own performances.
'Hush, it's starting,' Piao Liang, Clara's stylist whispered, even though no one was actually speaking at that point. If they had been then Piao Liang would not have been heard.
As always, the Careers were up first. The girl and boy from 1 earned an eight and nine respectively. Benedict and Avalon shared a score of ten, and the two from three both scored six. Annie and her district partner both scored seven, and Districts 5, 6, 7 and 8 all got scores ranging from four to seven. Then it was Jen's turn.
'Jennifer Pitfall, with a score of, two,' Caesar Flickerman announced.
Grantaire groaned. 'Two? Seriously?'
'She's gone,' Haymitch laughed unkindly.
Callum was the next significant other and Clara leaned forward in anticipation.
'Callum Worthing, with a score of, nine,' Clara couldn't help but smile.
'Not bad for an outlying District,' Marcus remarked. 'And isn't he a looker?' he nudged Clara, who moved a little further away from their escort.
'And finally, we have arrived at District 12,' Caesar Flickerman looked grave.
'Uh oh,' Haymitch hiccupped. 'This doesn't look good.'
'Now, now, let's not despair just yet,' Marcus smiled encouragingly. Well that's what he meant to do; in reality he just looked slightly constipated.
'Edwardo Grantaire, with a score of, ten,' Caesar announced.
The whole party was shocked into silence.
'WOOHOO!' Marcus suddenly erupted. 'Will you take a look at that! Double figures, DOUBLE FIGURES! I'm not hallucinating, my boy got ten points! Not one, not five, not nine, TEN!'
He danced around the room and picked Grantaire up with surprising strength. Grantaire was too shocked to stop him and Clara had the biggest grin on her face.
'Well done!' she mouthed over Marcus' shoulder. At that Marcus suddenly seemed to remember her presence.
'And now for my girl!' he added excitedly. He took her hand and pulled her onto sofa, putting his arm around her.
Caesar looked directly into the camera for the final tribute.
'And now, Clara Courfeyrac, with a score of…' he looked in slight doubt of the paper he held in front of him.
'Ten,' he concluded.
And Marcus went through the roof.
'TEN, ANOTHER TEN! MY GIRL, MY GIRL…AND MY BOY! Ten's all round! I said it before and I'll say it again, DOUBLE FIGURES! I mean, can life really get better than this?!'
The answer was obviously, yes of course it could. They could not be going into the arena the day after tomorrow. They could be at home with their families, with their friends, not being about to be forced to become brutal murderers. But in that moment, everyone thought Marcus was right, and the atmosphere lightened. If nothing else, they had proved that District 12 had strength, it's people were brave and courageous, and were capable of greatness. After twenty years of no victors, there was finally hope again.
'Will you look at that,' Marcus continued, still on a high, but slowly losing energy. With the amount he had eaten for lunch, no one could blame him.
'My tributes are just as good as the Careers from 2, and that's not something I say very often!'
Realisation dawned on Clara and Grantaire. Yes, they shared exactly the same score as the tributes from Enjolras' district. The Careers.
And that made them public enemy number 1.