Hunger Games 1. Chapter 1: Reaped

**It's a Love/Hate Relationship**

**by** Anna-Morgause

**Description**: Clove has oh so many reasons to hate the female tribute from District 12.

**Chapter 1: Reaped**

We've already been in the Capitol nearly a whole day when the recaps of all the reaping play. Two isn't very far away, so the train ride was short and Cato and I had all that time to relax . Not that we used it to relax. Every moment is used to it's fullest potential – training, exercising, strategy planning, coaching from our mentors – having that extra time is just another one of our advantages.

For the most part, we really only pay attention to the main three Districts: One, Two and Four. Those are the only ones that matter. In District 1, as always, the two volunteers that win have the most ridiculous names: Glimmer and Marvel. Glimmer pouts her lips and waves to the cameras and I can only hope that I get to kill her; she's making us, as female tributes, all look stupid. Even though we know the results, we pay extra attention to the District 2 reapings, I think because we all want to savor the moment. Cato volunteered, but I had the luck of getting reaped. I planned on volunteering next year, but when they called my name, everyone knew better than to try and volunteer for me. This is my place; I was born for this. A fit, tan girl gets reaped in District 4 and I make a note to watch out for her, along with a boy who must only be 13. I'd be worried about him if he looked anythign like Finnick Odair, but he's scrawny and covered in freckles and there is no way he's going to get anywhere near as many sponsors as his mentor. Lyme briefly mentions to not count out all of the other Districts, but even she only barely watches their reapings. Brutus laughs loudly when a cripple is reaped in District 10. The male tribute for District 11 is large and might pose some threat, but when the smallest little girl I've ever seen gets chosen in Twelve, we all stop paying attention.

"I volunteer!"

Everyone's eyes fly back to the screen. A dark haired girl who looks stronger and bigger than anyone from Twelve should is standing protectively in front of the tiny twig of a child. She volunteered. In District 12. That _doesn't_ happen.

I study the girl who is willing to die for such a miniscule, shaking little thing. She's not tall or short; her features aren't particularly striking; she blended into the crowd and no one noticed her until she threw herself in front of the blonde girl. She made us all notice her. I hate her for it. One of the commentators gushes in excitement and then I hate her even more. I don't even listen when the other tribute it reaped and the cameras only leave the girl for a couple seconds at a time. All it took was two words from her mouth to capture the entire world's attention.

"I'm going to kill that one," Cato growls.

No. He's wrong. It'll be me that kills her.

Anger bubbles up in my stomach. Anger and determination and hatred all mix together, along with some other feeling that I can't name, pushing me one. I'm going to be the one that watches the life leave those steely gray eyes of hers – the thought of it gets me excited. The last think she sees, the last thing she hears, the last thing she thinks, those will all be me; in death, she will be completely under my control. Oh, yes, I'm going to be the one that kills her. I'll die before I let her live.


	2. Chapter 2: Strong

**It's a Love/Hate Relationship**

**by** Anna-Morgause

**Description:** Clove has oh so many reasons to hate the female tribute from District 12.

**Chapter 2: Strong**

I'm excited for the opening ceremonies, I can't lie. The opening ceremonies are my first opportunities to show the Capitol, the districts, the world, just how strong I am. I'm small, but not to be underestimated. There's more to strength than brute force – not that you'd ever be able to get that through Cato's thick head. A thought flits through my head that the District 12 girl must be the same kind of strong that I am, but as gently as it entered my mind, I push it out with an equal amount of violence. She's not strong, she's weak. Only a weakling would do something so sentimental as volunteer for someone so worthless as that little blonde girl. She's weak and I'm strong.

"I'm stronger than all of them." I mutter as we climb up on the chariot. Cato looks at me like I'm crazy, but I ignore him. I'm strong. I am. I'll show them all just how strong I am.

As the chariot starts to move, my ends of my gold dress billow behind me. It's really only held in place by the golden armor that covers my chest. Volumnia says I'd look beautiful if I only smiled. I don't want to look beautiful, I want to look strong. Beautiful only gets idiots like Glimmer sponsors. I'm from District 2. These people expect me to be strong, not a pretty little princess.

District 1 comes out and the crowd roars; we come out and the roars get louder. Now _that's_ worth smiling about. They have so much respect in us that even before they see us, they support us. They know we are strong. They know_ I_ am strong. If they know that, I don't mind looking beautiful. I smile and wave – not as ridiculously as that damned Glimmer, who'd probably throw herself at the crowd if she could – and do everything my mentors told me to win sponsors. Everything goes according to plan.

At least until Disctrict 12 comes out and they see_ her_.

She's on fire – or she looks like she is – and she's beautiful. No, not just beautiful, gorgeous. Stunning. Brilliant. So brilliant that I hate her. I hate her and those weird little flip flops in my stomach must be a product of that hate because I've never hated anyone quite as much as I hate her.

I mean, it has to be hate, right? What else could it be?

After the ceremonies end, Cato stares her down and I can't help but take some pleasure in her squirming. Sure, it's not nearly as satisfying as it will be when I make her squirm and shake in fear myself, but it's enough for now. As we leave, I flick out a small knife I had hidden in the folds of my dress. I see her reflection – still shining like the sun even though those stupid flames are gone – in the silky smooth surface of the blade and smile. Yes, I'll get my chance to play with her later, show her just how strong I am, maybe even make that stupid smile of hers a bit wider and bloodier.

"Enjoy your little victory for now, Katniss Everdeen." I tell her reflection. After her reaping, I made sure to learn her name, just so I can enjoy the kill that much more. She'll know my name, too. I'll make her scream it and beg for mercy before I end her life. She won't be beautiful when she dies; she'll be crying and bloody and writhing in the mud. When she dies, she'll be completely pathetic. Not strong at all. I'll make sure of it. "Because you won't be getting any more."


	3. Chapter 3: Training

**It's a Love/Hate Relationship**

**by** Anna-Morgause

**Description**: Clove has oh so many reasons to hate the female tribute from District 12.

**Chapter 3: Training**

Enobaria decides for us that we should not be the first to show up at the training center.

"Don't want to look too eager," she says. She tells us to act like we don't need the training - and really, we don't - and to act like we've got this all under control - and we do - but I get anxious as the clock ticks by. It's not the appointed time to show up but I just want to get down there and start showing those rejects what they're up against. I start to cut into the table we eat at with my knife, carving in a crude picture of me stabbing Katniss, or 'the girl on fire' as everyone seems to keep calling her. What's the point of that? She's more than just a pretty spectacle, learn her name.

No. Stupid Clove. Stupid, _stupid_Clove. She's not worth them learning her name. She's nothing. Nothing. I stab violently at the table where I carved her and Brutus laughs, amused. We walks over to me and starts rubbing my back, lower and lower. I don't like this. I try to jerk away, but his hands clamp down on my shoulders. He's so much bigger than me, so much stronger than me. I can't do anything. I'm weak. I'm week, just like I was when - No. No, Clove. Don't think about it. If you don't think about it, it didn't happen. It didn't happen. You're strong and it didn't happen. You're just letting Brutus do this because you need his help to get sponsors to help you prove how strong you are.

Brutus leans down and whispers in my ear, "You have to relax, princess." I'm no princess. I stare straight ahead, grit my teeth and dig my knife into the table, creating a big, ugly hole. From the corning of my eye, I can see Cato glaring at Brutus and actually feel a bit relieved. Cato's on my side, for now, which is good because I'm going to need him to do a lot of the grunt work to free me up to kill Katniss. "Save that anger for the arena."

Lyme clears her throat and says that we can go to the training center. Slowly, Brutus releases me and it takes a lot for me to not just run out of the room and get as far away from him as I can, but I know that I have to seem strong.

Not seem strong, _be_ strong. _Be strong, Clove,_ I tell myself. _You are strong, so be strong_. With calm, measured steps, I meet Cato at the door and we walk ourselves to the elevator. They all know that we don't need babysitters.

"Next time he does that, I'm going to kill him," Cato tells me once we get in the elevator.

I look at him with a stoic face, hiding my shock. Why does he care who touches me or where? No one has before. "Killing one of our mentors seems a bit counterproductive."

Cato shrugs. "We have others."

We don't say anything until we get to the training center, which doesn't take long because we're only on the second floor. The tributes from four other Districts are already there, including District 1 and District 4. We go sit by them and wait for the rest, a loose conversation between the six of us as we try to size each other up. It's 10 AM exactly when the last pair of tributes - District 12, but what else do you expect - walk in. All eyes are on them and they look deliciously nervous, especially Katniss. Perfect.

Atala, the head trainer, begins to explain how the next few days ago, but I don't pay attention. Instead, I enjoy watching Katniss fidget,but when I realize that she and her District partner have matching clothes, I get frown. How pathetic is that? What are they trying to say? That they work together? That they need eachother? That she needs a man. She doesn't, I know it. I don't need a man and neither does she.

Atala's little speech ends and I head straight for the knives. They're all going to see just how strong I am, _especially _Katniss.

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter took so long. I kinda had a hard time figuring out what I would do next.


	4. Chapter 4: Pretty

**It's a Love/Hate Relationship**

**by** Anna-Morgause

**Description:** Clove has oh so many reasons to hate the female tribute from District 12.

**Chapter 4: Pretty**

Volunmina teases and twists and pulls my hair and Beaufort sweeps at least five different shades of pink onto my cheeks while Odile supervises Reema adjusting the folds of my dress so it lies just so.

I hate it all.

Cato laughs at the scowl on my face and I just want to throttle him. All he had to do was put on that damn suit and let them push gel into his hair while I have to stand here in these stupid heels that are way too tall because I'm apparently far too short and let them poke and prod and rearrange me any which way they want. As excited as I was for the Opening Ceremonies and training with the other tributes, I absolutely hate the interviews. Every year the tributes have to parade themselves out on stage for that obnoxious Caesar Flickerman and pretend to be likable, like the Hunger Games are some stupid popularity contest and not a battle to the death. What's the point of it?

Enobaria sees my scowl and rolls her eyes. "I don't care how 'strong' you are, Clove," She's making fun of me. I'd kill her if I didn't need her. "no one's going to want to sponsor you if you look like an angry little brat."

Brutus laughs and walks over to me. I keep my eyes focused on Cato so I don't have to look at my mentor and watch my partner's face flush with rage and stance change to one ready for attack. Was he serious about killing Brutus if he touched me again? Everyday I see him as less of a hulking idiot and more of a valuable, trustworthy ally.

"Let her be, Enobaria." His hand ghosts over my cheek but I jerk away. Beaufort moans that I've completely ruined my make up but I know it's just a little smudge that I could fix myself in two minutes. He does it in less than half of one. "It wouldn't hurt to smile, though, princess."

I force my very best "Victor" smile (something I'd practiced with my sister, Eta, when we were very young but she was weak and stopped training) and Brutus pats my head. "That's a good girl."

I give Cato a look as Brutus goes back to his seat, silently telling him not to murder one of our lifelines, and take a deep breath to calm myself. I'm not going to let Brutus or this stupid interview keep me from winning what is rightfully mine. I'm stronger than that. I'm strong.

When we get there, we're lined up in order of our Districts, girls first, boys second. I'm third and Cato is fourth, so we don't have to wait long. I ignore Glimmer and Marvel's interviews and mentally prepare for mine.

"Clove Edenthaw!" Ceasar Flickerman finally calls my name and I smile congenially. I answer his questions pleasantly, but there's a violent edge to my answers and the questions become darker and darker to accommodate them, which the audience seems to love. When the three minutes end, I'm confident I made a good impression and the mildly impressed look on Enobaria's face tells me I have every right to be confident. Looks like I've found a way to show them my strength in this stupid pageant. Cato's interview goes about as well and I know I'd probably be afraid of him in I were from one of the outlying districts. And if I were weak. He comes and sits next to me once his interview is over.

"Would you be mad if I said you looked pretty?" Cato asks as the District 3 girl stutters out her first answer. How pathetic.

"I think I'd push you off the roof and make it look like you jumped."

"Then you look hideous."

I laugh and then so does he. It's been so long since I've had any reason to laugh and I can't lie, it feels good. I'd thank Cato if it weren't a sign of weakness. We both watch the rest of the interviews, rather uninterested until the second to last one, when I sit up and pay attention. _Show me what you've got, Everdeen. _

As usual, she looks glorious. I'd give that stylist of hers all the credit if I weren't sure that there was something about that stupid, weak girl that made her special, with or without him. Special, not strong. She giggles and answers Flickerman's questions in the stupidest way possible but the audience is eating it up. I'm disgusted until I think of Johanna Mason, the Victor from two years ago. She played dumb during the interviews but was vicious and deadly in the arena. Is it all just an act? Is Katniss smarter than I think? Stronger?

I don't have much time to think about that, though, because she starts to twirl. She starts to twirl and suddenly I can't breathe. She's beautiful and radiant and _on fire_. Again. My chest tightens and my face flushes and I have no idea what I'm feeling but I hate it; it makes me feel weak. Weak with longing. I want to touch her and twirl her and her giggle like that and I don't understand any of it because I've never felt anything like this before. I hate her for it. I'm going to make her pay for it. Her death will be slow and painful and delicious.

Watch out, Girl on Fire. I'm coming for you.

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter took so long. I'm nearing the end of the semester and there's a lot of work to be done. I do have the final chapter actually all the way done but I have plenty more in between this one and it to write. Oh, and just a heads up, I'm ending up exploring the Clove/Cato relationship (relationship is not necessarily romantic, mind you) more than I had initially anticipated but I'm not abandoning the Clove/Katniss aspect of this story.


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Hunger Games, Horror, Romance