All Things Come To an End
A/N: This next fic is in Will POV. Quite a few OCC. Enjoy!
Four years. Four long years. This is how long Will Treaty had lived in District 13. He hated having to refer to Araluen in that way. Not only was it demeaning, but it gave him an utter sense of failure and guilt. Just another reminder that all things come to an end. You can't avoid it, but that doesn't mean you can't prolong it, right? Most others have gotten used to it by now. You seldom heard hushed voices whisper of a place they once knew by the name of Araluen. Horace, Evanlyn, Gilan, Alyss, for God's sakes, even Halt. And he absolutely hated it. All of it. All the people who put them all through this torture. Four years. It still gave him nightmares.
He urged Tug on, as fast as he could go. Halt and Abelard right behind him. His breaths were heavy and his features set in fear and determination. Branches whipped past him, tearing at his cloak and scraping his face. Yet he ignored the pain as his mind was only focused on one task. As they drew nearer to Castle Araluen, he could pick up the sounds of screams filling the night, and that was before the burning castle came into view. Their pace remained unchanged as they sped through the villages, occasionally firing a few arrows when absolutely necessary. He heard a familiar grunt behind him, and whirled around to find Halt knocked off Abelard by a nearby concealed attacker and currently engaged in mortal combat. Although he knew he had to get to the castle, he still momentarily paused, worried for his former mentor.
"Halt!" He cried out, knowing there was nothing he could do. It was all him right now. He knew Halt could take care of himself just fine, but with the heat of the battle, he could not help but have a growing concern for the older man.
"Just go Will! I'll be fine!" His former mentor shot back at him, obviously occupied. Will cast back a worried glance before turning back and racing Tug towards Castle Araluen. This was probably the fastest Tug had ever taken him in his life. Finally reaching towards the great castle, Will raced through the burning gates. He practically leaped off the shaggy pony and slung the long bow across his back. Barging through the no longer locked doors, he sprinted through the surprisingly empty halls. He almost doesn't hear the sound of footsteps behind him and ducks just in time, avoiding a precisely aimed arrow at the back of his skull. In a second, he has his bow drawn, an arrow nocked. He finds no sign of his attacker as he scans the halls. A sense of dread settles in as he realizes the tactic. They want to delay him. Panic floods his system as he completely forgets his new attacker and rushes to the throne room. He knows what will happen. He can't let this happen.
Finally, he bursts open the doors of the room. He takes in the sight all at once. Evanlyn, bloodied and unconscious, with a single arm chained to the wall. And King Duncan, untouched, unchained, and standing right before him. His mind is filled with a million different possible scenarios, none of which making sense. The sight before him…. It must be a trap.
"Ah, Will. You had definitely taken your time, I assume? It's a shame, I'm sorry you couldn't have made it here earlier." He says. Emotionless. How odd.
"Cassie here has taken quite a time, while you and Halt were wasting time out there," He says, gesturing towards his daughter. Although well hidden, Will notices the slight pause he takes before saying her name.
"But the past has passed, I guess. And Will?" He now shows the slightest emotion. Fear? Sadness? He couldn't tell.
"Tell her I'm sorry for all this." Now Will is confused. There is still no visible attacker. What is going on?
"And I'm afraid I have to make an apology to you as well." He says. Suddenly he sees the king fall face-forward, an arrow sticking out of his back. As Will tries to comprehend what he's just seen, he feels a sharp pain. And it all goes black.
His eyes snapped open as his nightmare ended. He always woke up at that part. Will didn't have the nightmares as often anymore; enough for him to get a decent night's sleep once in a while at least. But this was reaping day. Of course his subconscious mind would remind him of the awful events of the past. He sighed, regretting the events that happened that day. Will would've done anything to go back and change it.
"But the past has passed, I guess."
Will shuddered at the recollection of that moment. He felt as if this was all his fault. That if he would've done something differently, that their leader would not be dead, with his daughter incognito. That their country would not have annual 'games' making innocent people fight to the death.
"But the past has passed, I guess."
Knowing he was unfortunately right, Will finally pulled himself out of the bed and got dressed. God, he hated this. Originally, the reaping pool was ages 12 to 18. But after the first games, the districts tried to rebel. And they would've succeeded, if it weren't for the capitol's weaponry. During their first attack, they defeated their country using normal weapons. Swords, crossbow, etc. So when the districts rebelled, they thought they knew what they were going up against. Then they had suddenly brought out things that weren't thought to be possible. These were things like grenades, sniper rifles; they had even launched missiles on some of the districts. After being defeated, the reaping pool grew a considerable amount. Now, anyone over the age of 12, and under the age of 60 could compete in the games.
Will sighed unhappily at the thought as he finished dressing. His outfit did not consist of his cloak. This has been burned years ago, as was Halt's and Gilan's. What it did consist of was just a plain woolen shirt under his leather jerkin, and woolen breeches as well. After slipping on his leather boots, he reached under the bed to grab his Silver Oakleaf. Few Rangers still had them. They were either killed for wearing them, or they were just taken away. So he wasn't supposed to really have it, let alone wear it. But he didn't always wear it, only when he felt he needed to. So he slipped the cool metal chain around his neck, and carefully placed it under his shirt. Feeling as ready as he would ever be, he headed out to the reaping square.
At the square, he filed in with all the other men, looking for a few specifically. Catching no sight of Horace or Gilan, only to be greeted by looking up at dozens of different heads all crowded together, not noticing any face in specific. He was suddenly reminded of groups of cows, all stuffed together in the slaughterhouse, just waiting for their deaths.
As the mob cleared up, and they had actually gotten in some sort of order, the reaping had started.
The announcer for District 13 walked up to the two podiums as if the ballots were for voting instead of these games. Out of his pocket, he pulled out a small grey box. After messing around with it for several moments, a screen suddenly came down from the building behind him. An image appeared on it, and a video played.
Will was still perplexed at this. How did they capture an image, and then put it up somewhere else? Of course he payed no attention to the actual video. It was the same thing it had always been. A reminder of how 'generous' they were for not destroying them all. For giving them a 'second chance' as they so delicately put it. It would show scenes of burning fiefs, overthrown governments, and lives being ruined at their hand. And how now they were being generous for not doing that to them.
Will smirked at this notion. How ironic. He thought. We might as well been better off if we had it their way.
But he instantly diminished the thought. They still have a chance, right? At least they're still alive.
He was pulled out of his stupor when he heard the announcer.
"Alright." He said, with entirely fake enthusiasm. It seemed he didn't want to be here almost more than they did.
"As always, ladies first." He moved over to the glass ball on the right side of the podium. Slowly, he placed his hand inside the bowl. His hand rummaged around in it, as if he couldn't decide which lives to ruin. Finally, after seconds that felt like hours, his hand came back out with two slips in it. The capitol had decided to reap two of each gender instead of one. This was because of the high population. It was almost as if they said, "Hmm, we can't have that, now can we? Oh, I have a brilliant new idea. Let's double the reaping size!"
He made his way back to the center of the podium, placing himself in front of the microphone.
"This year," He said in his deep melancholy voice. "The female tributes of District 13 are Calli Venatrix, and Audrey Hartman."
On cue, a stream of gasps filled the crowd. Although Will was grateful that it was not Alyss or Evanlyn, he couldn't help but feel bad for the two girls. Calli was a tough girl; she would last long, depending on her competitors. But Audrey, Will knew, had almost no chance. She had a more delicate frame than Calli, and was slightly smaller than most girls. That's not the only reason, because being small can still have its advantages. But she hated violence, and wasn't the best healer, either. She was squeamish about blood.
He watched as Calli's face remained unreadable as she headed up towards the podium. Yet he noticed Audrey stayed put for a minute, as the others around her backed away from her, as if she had a disease. He could tell that she was too shocked to comply immediately. When she realized no one would, she cautiously followed Calli to the podium, and they stepped to the front of it. The announcer gave them a feigned smile and then moved to the other bowl.
"And now for the gentlemen." He said, placing his hand inside the clear bowl. It's funny how even the worst of scenarios can make something as insignificant as a clear glass bowl seem so terrifying and mean the deaths of so many. His heart pounded in his chest. Whose names would he draw? It seemed to have taken him forever to pull the two names out of the bowl.
After what felt like an eternity, the announcer pulled out the two names.
"And now, the two male tributes sponsoring District 13 in this year's annual Hunger Games will be…" He pauses as he unfolds the two ballots.
"Matthew Scott and Will Treaty. "
-bum bum bum…. Cliffhanger! Sorry, you can continue now. Just ignore me. -
Will should've known that his name would've been picked. Of course he would be. His name was in there so many times, he was surprised he had gone this long without being drawn. Without hesitation, Will slowly headed towards the podium. As he and Matthew made it to the front, the announcer, completely oblivious to the distraught aura surrounding the square, spoke.
"I present to you, the four tributes sponsoring District 13 in the annual Hunger Games. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
They took Will and Matthew to separate rooms in the top floor of the building to say their goodbyes. They each had five minutes, whether or not anyone came to them. As Will paced by the window, Horace and Gilan burst into the room, pulling Will out of his mind palace.
They all looked at each other, not knowing what to say. But Will spoke first.
"Guys, I'm sure I'll be fine, I just-"He was suddenly interrupted by Gilan.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry about that. Just wish I could've taken your place."
"But they don't allow us to volunteer," Will points out. "You act like it's your fault, Gil. It's fine." Gilan shifted uncomfortably at that. Will saying that didn't really change his thoughts at all. Even if it actually was his fault Will would've said that. That was when Horace took the opportunity to speak.
"Just Will, you can make it back you know," He said cautiously, knowing where this conversation was going. "we all know you're fully capable of it." Will sighed and looked down. He didn't want to talk about this.
"I know that Horace, but what about the people like Audrey? She doesn't stand a chance, and you know that. She doesn't deserve a death like that. Neither does Calli."
"Point taken Will, but no one in this game does. That's their point, remember? That's why they only have one winner."
"I know I get it, but-"He was cut off as two guards came through the big wooden doors.
"Time's up." They said as they dragged his two friends out of the room.
Next came in Halt and Alyss. Alyss instantly surged towards Will, enveloping him in a hug. Unlike Horace, she didn't try to convince him of anything else. She already knew what he was thinking, and although she didn't like it at all, she knew that it was for the best; and that there would be no stopping him.
"I'm so sorry Will…" She sobbed on his shoulder. He gave her a reassuring hug in return.
"Everyone's saying that," He joked lamely. "Don't really get why." Alyss just stayed silent, still gripping him tightly. Meanwhile, Halt just stood near the door, away from the whole exchange, silent. Finally Alyss just gave him one last squeeze and backed out of the room, sniffling. Then it was just Will and Halt. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
"Wearing your Oakleaf, I assume?" Halt finally asked. Will nodded. "'Course I am." He replied. "That's… good." They stood in silence for a few more moments before Will rushed over and suddenly wrapped Halt in a hug.
"Take care of 'em, will ya, Halt?" Halt stayed silent. He always thought that he would die before Will did, not vice versa. It's not right. Damn the capitol, he's still just a boy. He thought scornfully. Halt still didn't know what to say. He didn't want to sound cliché, but it was really all he had to offer. "Good luck Will," He said, almost inaudibly. Then the guards came in and took Halt out as well, leaving Will completely alone.
Weeks later, Halt, Gilan, Horace, and Alyss all watched the screens in horror and sorrow as the two remaining tributes, Audrey and Will, faced each other. On the edge of a cliff in the arena. They heard the game-maker announce that they were the last two tributes, and that the games 'must go on'. And before turning off the speakers, he said the ever-so-famously quoted line.
"And, may the odds be ever in your favor."
Will let out a deep breath. He had known this moment would come. Doesn't mean he had hoped it wouldn't have. But he didn't deserve to go back when Audrey could. She didn't deserve a death here. But neither did his friends at home deserve to helplessly watch him die, either.
"That's their point, remember? That's why they only have one winner."
He smiled without emotion. He had known that Horace was right of course, but that doesn't mean that he wanted to be reminded of it in his last moments.
"Will?" Whispered Audrey. "What do we do now?" The fear was evident in her voice, and her lip trembled as she spoke. "You're not gonna kill m—"
"No! Oh God Audrey, 'course not." He cut her off hastily. "You wanna know what we're going to do? Well, I know it's not the best plan, but you're gonna go home, and you're going to be crowned victor." Realization dawned on Audrey's face, but just a second too late. Will stepped off the ledge, calmly falling into the rocky abyss below.
It had all happened so quickly. Audrey looked down over the cliff, not believing her eyes. Why did he do it? She thought. He had a life, people to go back to. People to accept him. The single word kept floating through her mind, why? Why? And she didn't even take notice as the head game-maker announced her winner, and the hovercraft came to take her home.
Fin.
A/N: Your reaction here_. I hope you weren't disappointed! I had come up with the title from the beautiful Eleventh Doctor quote, "Everything's got to end sometime, otherwise nothing would get started." It's appropriate, don't you think? I've found this to be true. But yeah, I actually enjoy writing these out. Just depends on who reads them, I guess. Please review, do you think I should publish more? Anyways, have a great day!
