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MY LITTLE DOVE.

(chapter two, two and twelve, what a difference)

the academy, 2248.

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DOROTHY AND CORIOLANUS HAD finally made it to the Academy, just in-front of the grand staircase. They both climbed it slowly, not muttering a word as they attempted to act casual and calm if they caught anyone's eye. This was a curse that was bestowed upon them, for many people knew their parents and those before them, making a standard expectation of a Snow to appear. They always wanted personal recognition, mentoring in the Hunger Games could finally be it.

There would be twenty-four tributes, one boy and one girl from each of the twelve vanquished districts. Names would be drawn by lottery to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death in the  so called, Hunger Games. This was outlined by the Treaty of Treason that had ended the Dark Days of the district's rebellion, one of the many punishments that the Capitol put upon them. Viewing was encouraged in the Capitol, though many tend to avoid it. This was the challenge of the Gamemakers.

For the first time, the tributes were assigned mentors. Twenty-four of the Academy's best and most smartest seniors were sent to do the job. Everyone had agreed that if the Hunger Games were to continue for many years ahead, they needed to evolve into a more meaningful experience and the pairing of Capitol youth with the district tributes definitely had people intrigued.

"Oh, Dottie!" A voice called out from the swarm of people. Dorothy turned her head to find Arachne Crane pushing people out of the way, rushing to her with a smile on her face.

Arachne and Dorothy were somewhat friends, having grown up together. They had both attended important events in each other's lives. Arachne's family worked in the travel industry, having developed luxury hotels in vacation destinations. She and her family took a big hit during the war, but the looks of it, they were picking up all right, much better than what Dorothy and her family was doing.

"Arachne, hello," greeted Dorothy with a forced, yet charismatic smile.

"Well, don't just stand there, silly," said Arachne as she looped her arm through her's, pulling her along. "Let's go! By the way, love the dress. Where did you get?"

Dorothy turned around and gave an apologetic look to Coriolanus, who was standing there chuckling to himself before following them, but from far away where he couldn't possibly hear what they were saying. She turned around and said to Arachne, "Well, you know, the Snow wardrobe is massive. Found this little beauty at the far back, it's simple, though."

"Yes, it is quite simple," said Arachne as she studied Dorothy's dress. "It's the rose that ties it all together, I think."

Dorothy and Arachne, with Coriolanus tailing behind, made their way through an entry draped in black banners, down a vaulted passage, and into Heavensbee Hall where they would watch the broadcast of the Reaping ceremony.

Avoxes made their way through the crowd with trays of posca, a watery wine which was laced with honey and herbs. Arachne grabbed two glasses and handed one to Dorothy, who took one sip to get rid of her, no doubt, cabbage breath before putting it back on the tray. She looked over to Arachne, who had finished her's in one gulp, causing Dorothy to raise an eyebrow as she placed the empty glass back on the tray as the Avox walked off.

"Why didn't you finish the rest of your's?" Arachne questioned. "Don't you like it?"

"No, no," said Dorothy quickly, taking one look at Arachne's slightly offended face. "It's just... strong, that's all."

Arachne nodded her head as she tightened her grip on Dorothy and wondered over to a group of their peers, who all seemed to be conversing. Dorothy had been right, for the drink was too strong as she and Coriolanus had saw many high-classed men make a fool of themselves by drinking too much. She made a mental note to stop Arachne from drinking too much, not being in the mood to stop her from crazy shenanigans that she would've gotten herself into.

"Dottie! Arachne! Hello, you two," greeted Livia Cardew, a girl who had a shrill voice that caused Dorothy to wince slightly. "I was just telling Strata and Clemmie here about my mother." She gestured towards Lysistrata Vickers and Clemensia Dovecote, who both greeted Arachne and Dorothy with a smile. They both had looks on their face that made Dorothy realise that they didn't want to be there with Livia.

"What about your mother?" Dorothy asked with a raised eye-brow.

"Well, you must know, Dottie," said Livia. "My mother runs the largest bank in the Capitol. Rather proud really, knowing I'll inherit it one day when she dies."

"I wouldn't be surprised if her mother's found dead tomorrow," muttered Lysistrata, who was beside Dorothy with a glass of posca in her hand. 

"She's crazy enough to kill her," added Dorothy, which caused Lysistrata to snicker quietly. Dorothy were perhaps closest to Lysistrata and Clemensia than anyone else in the Academy, with the exception of Coriolanus. 

Lysistrata had carefully braided hair and evenly filed nails that made Dorothy feel a tinge of jealously. She was a person who never drew attention to herself, something that the twins admired her for, though this was hard due Lysistrata's never ending beauty. She had smooth, brown skin, having a delicate appearance that Dorothy envied.

Clemensia, on the other hand, compared so much to Livia that Dorothy had once wondered if they were twins. They looked nothing alike and Clemensia didn't have a need to gloat, but it was that she was already studying and showing tact when she first heard the news of her mentorship, just like Cardew. But unlike Livia, Clemensia was a kind and humble person who was rather popular throughout the Academy. This seemed to be a blessing, for it served as an excuse to any occasional rudeness that she may show.

"Well, that's something to be proud of," said Arachne with a giggle. She, for some odd reason, was friendly towards Livia. 

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Livia as she took a sip from her glass. "It just fills me up with joy whenever I think of my mother, remembering how successful she is. My future is bright from the shine of money, thanks to her."

"If only you were as bright," whispered Dorothy.

"What was that?" Livia asked her, obviously wasn't listening to what she had to say, thank goodness.

"Oh," exclaimed Dorothy. "Uh — I was just saying you have the brains to match it. I mean, you are one of the brightest here."

"Thank goodness, someone else said it," exclaimed Livia. "I mean, I know how smart I am. I didn't want to say it in front of the others, you know how jealous they can get."

Dorothy forced a smile until she heard a bell ringing and saw her other fellow students converging at the front of the dais.

"I guess it's time," Lysistrata said glumly as she downed the rest of her glass.

Dorothy released herself from Arachne's grasp and followed Clemensia and Lysistrata to where a special section of chairs, six rows by four, had been set up for the mentors. Dorothy spotted Coriolanus and gave him a small smile, in which he gave back. She hoped dearly that one of them were assigned a competitive tribute, a tribute who had a chance of winning.

Dean Casca Highbottom, the man credited with the creation of the Hunger Games, was overseeing the mentor program personally. He was an unusual man, presenting himself to the students with the enthusiasm of a sleepwalker, dreamy-eyed as he was, usually, doped up on morphling. He once had a fine physique, from what Dorothy was told, but now he was a shrunken and sagged skin man. 

"Ho there," he slurred as he waved a piece of crumbled paper over his head. "Reading the things off now." All the students hushed, trying to hear the man over the racket of the hall. "Read you a name, then you who gets that one. Right? So, fine. District One, boy, goes to..." Dean Highbottom squinted at the paper. "Glasses," he mumbled. "Forgot them." Everyone waited with a sigh as they stared at his glasses, already on his noise, waiting for his fingers to find them. "Ah, here we go. Livia Cardew."

Livia's pointed face broke into a grin and as she punched the air in victory from beside Clemensia and Arachne, shouting, "Yes!" in her shrill voice. Dorothy knew that this would cause her gloating to become much more frequent than normal.

"Right, thank you," said Dean Highbottom. "District One girl, she goes to... Palmyra Monty."

Dorothy turned her head and found Palmyra sitting in the row in-front of her, nodding her head slightly at the news, not fazed about how her chances of winning were now very high.

"Next one, District Two boy, he goes to..." Dean Highbottom drawled as he squinted at the page, confusion in his eyes. "Sejanus Plinth."

There were a few mutters of disagreement that followed soon after, people shaking their heads as all turned to where the said boy sat. Sejanus Plinth was sat next to Coriolanus, his figure slumping back into his chair when hearing the news and the whispers coming from the other students.

Dorothy looked over to him, Coriolanus staring at Sejanus with confusion on his face. Sejanus was a district boy, everyone knew that, but to have him mentor his own district was preposterous. Dorothy remembered the first day he came to the school playground, a shy and quiet boy who gazed at the other kids with cautious eyes, clutching a bag of gumdrops tightly in his small hand. This, of course, had allowed the other kids to mock and make the boy feel small, for he was hated in the Capitol for being from the districts and the districts hating him, for he was in the Capitol. Dorothy had never properly spoken to the boy, but now, she may have to.

"All right then, the District Two girl, goes to..." Dean Highbottom paused for a moment until his eyes glanced over to Dorothy. "Dorothy Snow."

Dorothy glanced around and saw that most people were looking at her, some smiling whilst others scowling. What kind of luck did she have? She glanced over to Coriolanus, who gave her a smile, though it seemed forced. Dorothy felt herself explode inside with happiness, she had a chance of winning. Dorothy Snow had gotten District Two, one of the mightiest districts there was along with One.

Dean Highbottom carried on with the list, though Dorothy didn't care. She finally had a chance of redeeming the Snow name, a chance to change everything. Arachne had managed to scoop up the District Ten girl, something she had complained about. Clemensia had gotten the District Eleven boy, quickly writing it down in her binder. It was when Lysistrata had gotten the District Twelve boy, that Dorothy noticed that Coriolanus's name hadn't been called out. He couldn't possibly be getting the District Twelve girl, he must be getting another special position, something not as low as mentoring Twelve's girl.

Dorothy eye's went wide when she heard Dean Highbottom mumble, "And last but least, District Twelve girl... she belongs to Coriolanus Snow."

Mumbles and whispers echoed around the room at his words. How can a Snow, one of the Academy's high-honour students, get District Twelve? Whispers began to examine the difference between the Snow twins. Dorothy Snow, his youngest sister, managed to scrape up a District Two girl whilst he has the last name called out, getting District Twelve's girl, the worst of the worst.

"How did he get District Twelve's girl?" Lysistrata mumbled to Dorothy, who was sitting on her right. "I mean, you got Two and you're a Snow."

"I don't know," said Dorothy as she stared at her brother, who's face was morphed with somewhat confusion and embarrassment. 

Coriolanus Snow had gotten the joke district whilst she, Dorothy Snow, had gotten one of the mightiest district there was. Those District Twelve kids normally died within the first five minutes with their stunted and joint-swollen physique. There was no way in this cruel world that Coriolanus would mentor the winning tribute of the Hunger Games.

Dorothy thought this as the audience settled into the seats, the curtains at the back of the dias parting to reveal a floor-to-ceiling screen. The Reaping aired live from each district, moving from the East-coast to the West, and was broadcasted around the country. District Twelve would start first and the worry that Dorothy felt increased as she looked at her twin.

When the seal of Panem filled the screen, everyone rose as the sound of the Capitol anthem echoed around in the air.

Gem of Panem,

Mighty city,

Through the ages, you shine anew.

Most of the students mumbled the words, Dorothy included as she eyed Coriolanus, who sang the three verses in a forceful voice that caused heads to nod in approval as they studied the boy. District Twelve...

The seal disappeared and President Ravinstill appeared on the screen, his hair streaked with lines of silver as he dressed in his military uniform. Everyone was silent as they listened to Ravinstill recite a brief passage from the Treaty of Treason, which laid out the Hunger Games as a war reparation, lives taken from the districts for those lives lost in the Capitol.

The screen cut to the bleak square of District Twelve, where the stage was lined with Peacekeepers just in-front of the Justice Building. Mayor Lipp, a freckled man in a very outdated suit, stood between two burlap sacks. He thrusted his hand into the one on his left and pulled out a slip of paper, barely glancing at it as he spoke.

"The District Twelve girl tribute is Lucy Gray Baird."

The camera swept over the crowd of poor, hungry faces in dull, grey clothes, seeking the girl tribute. It spanned over to where tens of girls were drawing back, bringing attention to the unlucky chosen one.

There was a disturbance of murmurs amongst the crowd as they watched the girl. Lucy Gray Baird wore a dress that was made with rainbow-coloured ruffles. Her curly, dark hair was pulled up and woven with wildflowers. Her dress swayed around her as she began to move, not to the stage, but to her right.

Dorothy watched in horror as the girl dipped her hand into the ruffles of her dress and pulled out something green before quickly shoving it down the collar of a redhead's blouse. The camera stayed on the victim as her smirking face changed to one of horror, the tribute weaving her way through the crowd as she made it to the stage.

"What was that?" Clemensia whispered to Dorothy as she stared at the screen, confusion written all over her face.

Dorothy shrugged as she continued to watch, eyes wide as she noticed Mayor Lipp fly down the steps of the stage and pushing the rest of the girls aside to reach the redhead on the floor.

"Mayfair? Mayfair?" Lipp cried. "My daughter needs help!"

A circle was opened up around her, but those few who tried to help her was bashed by Mayfair's thrashing limbs. The mayor stepped into the clearing just as something rustled around in the girl's dress, an iridescent green snake shooting out and into the crowd.

The removal of the snake seemed to have calmed down the girl, but she was soon embarrassed as she turned slowly to face the cameras. All of Panem was watching her. One hand tried to fix the bow on top her hand that had gone askew whilst another one moved to fix her dress that was dusted in coal dust and torn from her clawing. Her father removed his jacket as he helped her to stand up, handing her over to a Peacekeeper. He turned back to the stage and gave the most murderous look to the girl tribute.

District Twelve still lacked a male tribute, but Mayor Lipp did not care. He retook the stage and passed the bag of names, ignoring them as he stood in-front of the girl tribute and struck her in the face so powerfully that it made her go down on her knees. He went to go hit her again, but some of the Peacekeepers restrained him before he went even further. When Lipp resisted, they led him into the Justice Building.

The camera shifted towards the girl on the stage, the camera zooming in. She sat there on the ground as she ran her hand over her skirt, smoothing the ruffles in it as she lifted the other one and touched the mark on her cheek. Her lip trembled slightly and her eyes glassed over with tears. Dorothy winced as she looked over to her brother, who was visibly twitching in his seat.

"She's gonna lose it," whispered one of the boys in-front of Dorothy, his friend nodding his head in agreement as he sighed.

Just before the boy's prediction came true, somewhere from the crowd, a voice began to sing. It was a young voice that Dorothy was unsure whether it came from a boy or a girl, but it echoed around the square.

You can't take my past,

You can't take my history.

The girl slowly lifted her head as a deep, male voice began to start singing.

You could take my pa,

But his name's a mystery.

There was a slight smile on the girl's lips as she suddenly pushed herself to her feet, strutting to the centre of the stage and gripping the microphone.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping.

Her free hand dug into the ruffles of her skit, swishing it side to side, and Dorothy put all the pieces together. This girl was a performer, it made sense how she had worn the bright dress and how she could hit those high notes with ease.

You can't take my charm,

You can't take my humour,

You can't take my wealth,

'Cause it's just a rumour,

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping.

Dorothy didn't know whether her smile was a smirk of joy or a grim look of horror as she watched the girl sing and lean out over the audience, the camera drinking her up.

Thinking you're so fine,

Thinking you can have mine,

Thinking you're in control,

Then you'll change me, maybe rearrange me,

Think again, if that's your goal,

'Cause...

She was off again as she swayed across the stage, right past a cohort of Peacekeepers, who had trouble suppressing their smiles. No-one moved to stop the tribute.

You can't take my sass,

You can't take my talking,

You can kiss my ass,

And then keep on walking,

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping.

Suddenly, the doors to the Justice Building banged open and the Peacekeepers who had taken the mayor off the stage came bursting back onto the stage. The girl was facing the crowd, but she could tell the Peacekeepers were back on stage and so she headed to the far end of the stage for her big finale.

No, sir,

Nothing you can take from me is worth dirt,

Take it, 'cause I'd give it free. It won't hurt,

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping!

The girl managed to blow a kiss before the Peacekeepers were on her. "My friends call me Lucy Gray — I hope you will, too!" One of the Peacekeepers wrestled the mic from her hand as another one picked up her and carried her back to the middle of the stage. She waved as if there was a thundering applause, not a silent, scared crowd of people.

There was silence in Heavensbee Hall. Then suddenly, everyone started to talk amongst themselves, first about the girl and then who the lucky person was that had gotten her. Most people in the room gave Coriolanus thumbs up in support whilst others shot him resentful glances. From what Dorothy could see, Coriolanus gave a bemused shake of his head, but she had known this boy for as long as she could remember. He was glowing inside. He was ecstatic.

Others looked at Dorothy as well, giving her glances of comfort because her brother was getting all the attention, others giving her murderous glares because she still had managed to snatch up District Two. But Dorothy did not care. Coriolanus had gotten District Twelve and it didn't matter if the girl could sing. She was District Twelve, those kids were normally the first ones dead. Dorothy had managed to scoop up District Two, the ones that had the most highest chances of winning.

Before Dorothy could think anymore, the Peacekeepers brought out the mayor and stood beside him as to avoid anymore conflict. He glowered at the camera as he dug his hand into the second bag and pulled out numerous slips at once. Most of them fluttered to the ground and he read the remaining paper.

"The District Twelve boy tribute is Jessup Diggs."

A boy with a fringe of black hair plastered across his forehead walked up to the stage and awkwardly took his place next to Lucy Gray, who stepped forward and extended her hand for him to take. Diggs hesitated and then reached out and shook it. Lucy Gray crossed in-front of him, switched her right hand for her left, and they were standing side-by-side, holding hands, when she made a deep curtsy, pulling the boy into a bow. A small disturbance of applause and whoops came from the crowd before the Peacekeepers closed in and the broadcast cut to District Eight.

Dorothy acted as if she cared when they showed the other outlier districts, but she kept looking at her brother. Coriolanus was deep in thought as his brows furrowed. The girl from Twelve certainly was special and the boy must know that. She wasn't big and muscly, but she had a sort of charm that could be dangerous in Games like these. But Dorothy's thoughts were banished when District Two came on the screen.

District Two was in much better condition than Twelve. Instead of the swollen jointed kids that the poorer districts had, Two had tall, strong children, their muscles popping out from their shirts and blouses. And as the camera cut to the square, it showed this.

The mayor, who was a lanky and hairy man, stood between two burlap sacks just like Lipp. With a sigh, he drove his hand deep into the sack and swished the papers around before plucking one out, biting his lip.

"The District Two girl tribute is Sabyn Peterson."

The camera's darted around the crowd in search of Sabyn Peterson, landing on a disturbance in the crowd. And the girl that came forwards was not like Lucy Gray Baird in her dress made of rainbows. Instead, Sabyn wore a simple, green dress with her black hair down.

The girl was pretty and simple by the looks of it, something Dorothy could use for the interviews. But the girl was not a fighter, she was not strong and big like some of the other kids in Two were. She was just a girl. Maybe the girl could run fast, maybe she was one of those who seemed quiet and timid at first, but deadly. That could be a tactic Dorothy could use.

With Sabyn on the stage, the mayor dug his hand into the sack and pulled out another piece of paper, muttering into the mic, "The District Two boy tribute is Marcus Smith."

A towering, strong boy walked slowly out of the crowd and Dorothy immediately envied Sejanus Plinth. Marcus Smith had muscles that rippled out of his shirt, the buttons nearly popping undone. And the boy also had a deathly stare as he glanced at the cameras as if he was about to shatter them. That boy would definitely kill the girl without a thought. Maybe Plinth had a chance at winning this thing.

With this in mind, the Reaping drew to a close as the smell of the food from the buffet came washing over the audience. It varied from freshly baked bread, meat, onions, and it took a lot of willpower for Dorothy to not go rushing over there once the screen turned black.

"Come on, Dottie," Lysistrata said as she rubbed Dorothy's shoulder. "Let's get some food before it's all gone."

Food was always scarce during the war and so, Dorothy had to adapt to starvation. And that was the rebels fault since they had held most of the food-producing districts. They had tried to starve those of the Capitol into submission and it always made Dorothy smirk when she thought that now, the Capitol had the upper hand. They were the ones controlling the supplies and food.

But, Dorothy supposed, the rebels still had control of the Capitol. Whilst she and her family had adjusted to starvation, accepting that this was their life now, others did not. There was a certain desperation across the Capitol, a desperation that caused the citizens to turn into monsters. Monsters that became cannibalisms, for those who dropped dead in the streets because of their starvation became part of the food chain.

It was a winter's night that Dorothy could remember vividly. She, Coriolanus, and Tigris had slipped out of the apartment to look through some wooden crates they had sighted earlier in a small alley. On their way there, they saw three bodies, noticing one was a young, beautiful maid that served tea at the Cranes' afternoon gatherings. The body was intact when they passed, but later on in the day when the three were walking back home, they saw a figure bending over the girl's body, causing them to hide behind a hedge. They watched as their neighbour, Nero Price, carve the leg from the maid, sawing it off with a threatening knife until it snapped off. Dorothy nearly puked as she had watched him wrap it in the skirt that he ripped from the girl's waist, bolting down the street back to his home. The three never spoke of it, but the image tormented Dorothy in her sleep.

And now, Dorothy had to swallow that image down as she picked up a gilt-edged plate that had the Academy's seal embossed on it. Despite the lack of food, the Capitol always had fine china on hand. The fact made Dorothy shake her head as she collected a napkin, a fork, a knife, and joined her brother.

"District Twelve..." Dorothy muttered as she watched her brother take off the lid of the first sterling silver dish. The steam bathed over them as the sight of creamy onions made Dorothy's stomach rumble. "What a delight..."

"Be quiet." Coriolanus nudged her. "I can do something with her..."

"I know you can," Dorothy told him, gripping her plate tightly. "It's not all about muscles and strength... you never know, she could be the smartest out of all of them."

"Shouldn't you be more focused on your own tribute, Dottie?"

"I'm just cheering you up a bit," she said. "You need it..."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Coriolanus asked her with a raised brow. "I don't need cheering up."

"Whatever you say, Coryo."

Coriolanus grumbled and stalked off, leaving Dorothy alone. She spooned the creamed onions on her plate, followed by boiled potatoes, baked ham, a hot roll, and some butter. It was a full plate, but it wouldn't be considered loaded or greedy. But yet, it seemed too much for a teenaged girl.

Swallowing down a lump in her throat, Dorothy sat her plate next to Lysistrata and tried to stop herself from scoffing down her food. It was good she had such a control over herself because she could feel Dean Highbottom's glare on her as she slowly ate her meal.