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She's just fourteen when he dies.
Dove's father never stood a chance. That's what they all tell her. That he wasn't going to get better anyways, that he's in a better place now.
Bullshit.
She knows something could've been done to save him. She knows the doctors didn't try hard enough to cure him of his ailment, because Dove heard them talking.
“It's going to be an extra thousand dollars.”
“Or else what?”
“We'll have to pull the plug on him.”
Something tells her she shouldn't have been listening to that or any conversation between her mother and the nurses, but Dove's painfully curious as to what's led to her father's condition. Did he overwork himself? Was he in the lumberfields too long that his heart gave out?
All Dove has is questions that'll go unanswered to "preserve her innocence" or some lame excuse like that. She scoffs at the very notion. Her childhood stopped at the same time as her father's heart did.
Because the crux of the matter is this: Glenn Briar is dead, and he wouldn't be if his family could afford it, if Dove could afford it.
The crux of the matter is this: if Dove Briar was born anywhere else, her father would still be alive.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
Two years fly by, one after the next.
Dove's been working hard in the forest, hacking at trees until her arms go numb, and then sighing and picking up the axe again. It brings home some money for the family.
But it's not enough, it'll never be enough. Because they've still got outstanding medical bills, money to pay nurses who failed to save Father, and after that they've got to eat something, so the house is cold at night and they're forced to huddle if they don't want their fingers and toes to freeze off.
At least summer's better than the winter in that regard. Dove doesn't think she'll be dying of frostbite anytime soon, but that's hardly a silver lining. Her name's in the reaping bowl ten times, all for grain and oil that never last the full month. It's something. That's what she reminds herself. It's better than nothing. She wishes she could say she's brave enough to take additional slips for Aspen and Orion, but reality is, if either of them get reaped, it's one less mouth to feed. And if she gets reaped, well—
Dove doesn't want to think about that.
Yet she's not given a choice when the escort takes the stage, the wig on her hair representing a pine tree because "Seven's the District that produces lumber and isn't that so cute and funny?"
She reaches into the female bowl first, the one with thousands of slips, ten of them reading that it's Dove Briar who'll be sent to the slaughter. Ten isn't all the slips, it isn't even most of them, or even just one percent of the slips in the bowl, so Dove takes comfort in that.
But one slip's enough to change somebody's life for the worse, especially when it’s a slip with Dove Briar’s name that is pulled.
Her stance is nervous as she walks up the stage, her bones trembling despite the fact she wants more than anything to exude confidence. Because it's so hard to be confident when every sign points to imminent doom.
Dove doesn't cry though. She doesn't allow herself to.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
She doesn't really talk on the train. Her District partner Conifer does enough of the talking. He’s just twelve years old but he’s already filled with spite against the world. Dove wonders if he knows Orion or Aspen, but she doesn't wonder enough to ask him. There's no point in small talk between two people who'll be dead within a week.
Her mentor's named Luther, and though Conifer mainly keeps him occupied, the older man looks to Dove on occasion and asks her, "Do you need anything?"
She doesn't. Not from him,, and especially not from a bunch of Capitol pricks who couldn't do anything to save her father. Dove just looks out the window as the world slips through her fingers. She even laughs a bit because isn't it just so fucking ironic that right when she thought her life couldn't get worse, she won the only lottery nobody wants to win?
Dove needs to get over herself. Everybody here's miserable, why should she be any different? Especially when she'll be dead unless she bites her tongue and decides to feed into the mindset of the people who killed her father. They killed her father and they'll kill her next, and she’ll be too dead to work and her mother and the boys will starve.
The Capitol killing Dove's father was the beginning; it seems they want the whole family rotting six feet under, like they never should've been born at all.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
She really hates her outfit. It's a tree, same as Seven is every year, and the felt itches and burns against her skin.
Though being on a chariot in front of the entire country's somehow less embarrassing than being seen and picked apart flaw by flaw by her "prep-team," who are supposed to help her but instead fill her mind with comments on how she's too skinny and too squeamish and a loser and forgettable, and wow it's such a shame they're stuck with Seven yet again.
Conifer's slightly more optimistic about it all, laughing and trying to get the Capitolites to sponsor him. Dove's not an idiot, so she won't get attached to him. She won't get attached to somebody so much weaker than her, that she'll have to live through their death, since they'll die before she does.
But then she realizes, maybe those are the perfect sort of allies. Those so likely to die, they won't betray her the way the world did her.
(That's not to say she can't be the world.)
𐄁𐄁𐄁
She decides she'll ally with Conifer, and on the first day of training she meets Roewan from Eight and Azalea from Eleven. Neither are older than fifteen. This should be fun
At the end of the day Roewan asks, "why the fuck would you want to ally with a basket case like me?"
There's certainly something odd about her, Dove's got no clue how she's going to survive on her own, but then again she's not sure Roewan's going to survive at all.
At least she's entertaining. "Why not?"
Conifer seems… upset with the decision. His arms are crossed and the frown on his face is more prominent than usual.
When the two of them discuss it later that night, he simply says to Dove, "do you really think a bastard like her is going to be any help in the arena?"
If either of her brothers had spoken with the language he just did, Dove would wash their mouths with dish soap. But Conifer's not one of her brothers, he just looks like it when Dove stares for too long.
He might be right. Roewan fell off the chariot the previous day, and her fingers are bandaged from the aftermath of trying to feed one of the horses. But again, at least she's entertaining.
Azalea's definitely more disciplined. The next day at training, she's the most focused, insisting the four of them focus on learning about medicine. She says her family back in Eleven run an apothecary, and that's why she knows all that she does.
When she's surrounded by all the herbal remedies, Dove can't help but wonder if any of them could have somehow saved her father. It's a stupid thought. She knows it's a stupid thought, but still, Dove loathes that after two years, he's still the ghost in the back of her head.
She doesn't expect to do too well in her private session, and part of her wants to just scoff at the Gamemakers instead of actually performing. But that would just get her into trouble, not that trouble means much when she's already going to die. Still, she abstains from acting like she’s on stage the way the Careers do.
Dove hurls her axe against a target several times. It makes contact most of the time. She reads off labels from plants and medicines, but overall her demonstration isn’t too special.
She gets a six. Better than she was expecting, and not good enough that people think she's going to be a threat.
Conifer gets a four, Azalea a five, and Roewan…
She scores a zero.
How is that even possible?
"I forgot to show up," she says with a chuckle, not too concerned about it. "It is what it is."
Dove remembers what Conifer said. "Do you really think a bastard like her is going to be any help in the arena?"
No.
But she doesn't need Roewan to succeed. She doesn't need any of them, just herself.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
The concept of an interview was always jarring for Dove, and now that it's arrived, it's somehow even scarier than she imagined.
Caesar Flickerman asks her when she's on stage, "Is there a reason you've chosen to ally with who you’ve chosen?"
Because she’ll miss them least when they're dead, but she can't say that. So instead, Dove bats her eyes and says, "I think that even the underdogs deserve a fair chance," with a half-smile on her face.
The audience seems to like her answer, clapping and cheering, but it doesn't feel good the way Dove thought it would. Because she's reminded that because these people are her enemies, she shouldn't want to please them.
So when Caesar asks another question, “is there anybody at home who you miss?" her reply is less gentle.
"Well, I miss my father." She crosses her arms in frustration. “And even if I win, I'll still miss him because of all of you!"
Apprehensive, Caesar pries for more details, "Because of us?"
Dove nods. "Yes, because of you filthy Capitolites and the way you've up-charged medicine for the rest of us, so much so that he died of a treatable illness and my family's still in debt from it."
The smiles on the crowd's faces have completely faded.
Good. She didn't want them to like her anyways.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
60.
She feels pressure building up in her chest as she stands on a platform, overlooking a forest of snow. Just because she's familiar with forests doesn't mean she's familiar with this one. Dove's never been so cold.
45.
To her right, the boy from Four stands tall with a somewhat menacing look on his face. She does her best to ignore it, because Dove knows that if she gets on his bad side, she'll be screwed.
Luckily though, Roewan's on her left, giggling like an idiot. As useless as she's continued to prove herself, Dove's comfortable with her. She knows that out of anybody in the arena, Roewan Bedford's least likely to kill her.
15.
Her platform lowers on the ground and she looks behind herself. If Dove wants to live, she has to make a run for it. She sees Conifer and Azalea doing the same, and that comforts her even more.
10.
She begins to wonder, is she really doing the right thing? But then again, now's really not the time for self doubt, especially when—
5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
"Let the Forty-Fifth Annual Hunger Games begin!"
And then she's off.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
Roewan follows her into the wilderness, neither of them speaking a word because they know that they won't truly be safe until they're far far away from the cornucopia. Dove is pleased to notice Conifer and Azalea following behind them..
Step after step in the snow, Dove feels like she's running for hours when it's only been ten minutes. Ten minutes filled with people screaming for mercy until the cannons go BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"I think we're safe." Azalea stops in her tracks and takes a deep breath. "Well at least, I think we're safe for now."
Roewan sits in the snow and starts drawing patterns. "I think… a lot of people died in the bloodbath."
"No shit." Conifer pouts, "I counted ten.."
It was actually eleven, but Dove doesn't correct him. She doesn't want to seem too focused on the cannons.
And that's how it starts.
She's determined to be the last one standing when it ends.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
The night begins with the howl of a wolf followed by faces in the sky. Dove was right. Eleven.
She doesn't recognize any of the fallen, and she doesn't really care about them either. Roewan on the other hand is laughing. "That guy Tartan is my District partner,” she says between fits. “He was so convinced he was going to win, but I knew he wouldn't last a day in here."
Azalea's partner's still alive, but she's not too worried about him. "Reese a trainwreck waiting to happen. I honestly have no clue how he’s still alive, but I’m not too worried"
It’s a simple time. But Dove knows that simple won't last, especially when she hears footsteps before going to sleep that night.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
She awakes to the sound of Roewan's screams, turning her head to see the girl flailing on the ground as she struggles to break loose from the grip of a wolf prying at her flesh.
"Help me!" She screams, but Dove doesn't know if she wants to. “Help me, help me, help me, Dove!”
One more person dead means there's more of a chance for her to win, so she's complicit as Roewan gets torn to shreds whilst Azalea and Conifer sleep peacefully.
The snow a deep red from her blood, bits of her skin flying about before a cannon fires and the wolf runs away.
Once Conifer and Azalea wake up, they both have the same, obvious question, "What the hell happened to her?"
All Dove can do is sigh and say, "I tried to save her, I really did but it was too late by the time I realized what was happening."
The eyes on Roewan’s corpse are still open and her entire expression is frozen in terror, but Dove tries not to break because of it.
She's already seen death in the form of her father, and that's the worst thing she'll ever see as far as she's concerned.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
Another cannon fires that day, and the sky at night reveals it was the girl from One who died.
Dove wonders what happens, because she was a part of the Career Pack, and it's odd that she died on just the second day.
She's curious, but she doesn't complain in the slightest.
Dove feasts with Conifer and Azalea on the remains of a deer they smashed to death with rocks. Even if it's raw, at least it's food, and she won't do anything about it if either of them get sick from it. She knows a thing or two about being helpless in times of sickness but she doesn’t care enough about them to be helpless again. The group melts snow in their hands to drink, and it's almost peaceful.
Emphasis on almost, because another cannon fires that night and Dove finds herself curious once more about who it'll be.
Azalea laughs, "I bet Reese finally got himself in trouble and paid for it."
"Based on what you told me about him, that sure would make sense," Dove agrees, and part of her thinks it's hilarious that somebody who's supposedly even more incompetent that Roewan managed to live longer than her.
But she doesn't miss Roewan even a little bit. Dove's grown incapable of missing anybody besides her father.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
The next night's sky confirms it was Reese who died. Him and the boy from Two, the predicted Victor, are both dead while Dove and two of her idiots are still alive and kicking it.
Well, that's a strong phrase for their predicament, but they're not dead. Or at least, they're not dead yet.
Maybe just maybe, she should change that.
Conifer's seems easy enough to kill. Easy enough that she could just snap his little neck in two, and then Azalea's. If she saw Dove killing Conifer she'd be so worked up over it, it wouldn't be hard for her to knock out two birds with the same stone.
But she can't.
That would be playing into what the Gamemakers want. For Dove Briar to go crazy and betray her allies for their entertainment.
She's not going to cater to the people who built her up just to destroy her.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
But the days pass and there's five people left, the three of them all alive without any conflict.
Dove can tell one of them's this close to breaking, and she wants so badly for it to not be her.
That would just show the Capitol that they're right and the only way to win is to play into their manifesto of torture.
Yet she wants to live.
More than living, Dove wants to win. She deserves to win after everything that she's been through, every battle she's fought in her own head. Her and what remains of her family deserves to live in peace.
… but that's just pandering to the people who want to destroy her.
It doesn’t matter.
Dove closes her eyes as she grabs onto Conifer's sleeping head on the morning of the sixth day, taking a deep breath before jerking his neck to the left and his shoulders to the right. There's a crack, and Conifer screams, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, Dove."
He’s loud enough to wake up Azalea whose eyes wide with a mix of shock, fear, terror, pity and guilt all at the same time.
And Dove's crying too, because she's not sure who she is anymore. She’s crying because she shouldn’t, but Dove wants to kill Azalea too.
With the rocks in her hands and the branches on the ground, Dove launches an ambush. Stone pierces skin and the snow is red again, but at least—
Three left, and she's one of them.
Now’s not the time for her to care about all the blood on her hands.
𐄁𐄁𐄁
The pair from Four are the last who remain.
Wolves howl, leading Dove to the center of the arena where they’re both bickering.
"Look at this fool," the girl says, shocked to see Dove in the finale with her and her partner.
Dove’s not surprised to be there though. She played the Games smart, and as nasty as she feels about it, she played them correctly.
They both charge at her, but she doesn't flinch. She doesn't try to change her fate because, maybe she deserves to die for what she did not even an hour ago.
No.
It's like her father's looking down at her from the cosmos and he's telling her, "Now's not the time for you to see me again."
So Dove runs away from Fours, sneaking under a log as the boy's strike at Dove accidentally hits the girl.
"What the fuck?" The girl hits him just as hard, and all Dove can do is watch from the outside. Watch and chuckle as they begin to kill each other like they've forgotten she's even alive.
The girl's cannon fires and that's when the boy realizes that Dove's still here with him.
Maybe she doesn't deserve to win after all.
She's not the strongest, and she's not the victor Panem wants, but fuck, she'll be their victor anyways. That's what they deserve after what they've done to her.
She pulls the knife from the girl's cadaver and flicks it at the boy's hunched over.
And that’s how the Forty-Fifth Games end. It really was that fucking easy.
The golden boy who's trained all his life for the Games' victory is put to rest by a roguish sixteen-year-old who's gone mad out of spite.
Dove Briar went into the arena with nothing but herself. Somehow, she still comes out empty handed.