Hi! My name is Paige, and this is my first story on FanFiction. I hope you enjoy it!
So the people who will be competing in this Hunger Games are:
District 1 - Maxon Schreave & America Singer (The Selection)
District 2 - Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson and the Olympians)
District 3 - Kai & Linh Cinder - (The Lunar Chronicles)
District 4 - Dorian Havilliard & Celaena Sardothien (Throne of Glass)
District 5 - Dimitri Belikov & Rose Hathaway (Vampire Academy)
District 6 - Four & Tris Prior (Divergent)
District 7 - Jace Wayland & Clary Fray (The Mortal Instruments)
District 8 - Loki Staad & Wendy Everly (Trylle)
District 9 - Harry Potter & Hermione Granger (Harry Potter)
District 10 - Edward Cullen & Bella Swan (Twilight)
District 11 - Shane Collins & Claire Danvers (Morganville Vampires)
District 12 - Peeta Mellark & Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games)
For those who have not read the books from which these characters come from, don't fret! The events that happened in these books never took place in this world and everyone is human. No spoilers will be given.
I don't own any of the characters or this world.
JACE POV
"Clancy Albinson!"
The small, bewildered boy, who only looked about twelve or thirteen years old, was almost green. His legs shook and his face was twisted with dread as he walked up to the stage, and to what was to be his certain doom.
Or what would have been, had I not been there.
I took a deep breath, let it out. I am ready. "I volunteer as tribute!" I stood as tall as I could, which was quite a lot taller than most of the people around me, so that everyone could see that I was the one who had spoken. Byron Glazier, the escort of District 7, perked up considerably at this. Not that he particularly cared about me or Clancy Albinson, but, as he always made clear, he enjoyed the Hunger Games, and having a volunteer generally spiced up his sadistic purpose of living. And no, I don't particularly care about Clancy either, though I couldn't help feeling a little bit glad that I wouldn't have to watch another brutal slaughtering of a young child, but I had been training all my life for this, thanks to my strict father, and I would hate to see my hard-earned skills go to waste.
I began to walk towards the stage, every step placed In the precise position to give me a look of complete confidence. The other volunteers watching their televisions later that night would see that I volunteered, I am ready for this, and, most importantly, that I am not someone to be messed with.
"And you are?" Byron said, his voice filled with excitement as I reached the stage.
"My name is Jace Wayland." I am expressionless. I am a killing machine. I am here to win.
"Excellent! Excellent! Come up here on the stage, boy," even though I already was on the stage, Byron loved the idea of being in control of my trip to the games, right from the start. "Too bad, Clancy, maybe next year, eh?" The relief was obvious in the young boy's face, even as he muttered a "Yes sir," and almost sprinted down to the area for his age group.
"Ladies and gentlemen of District 7, I give you, our male champion, Jace Wayland!" It didn't matter that I wasn't their champion yet, our escort couldn't resist adding a little extra to his speeches to make them more dramatic. There were a few sparse claps from the crowd, but mostly the people were silent. This didn't discourage Byron.
"But who will be competing with this fine boy?" Byron slowly dipped his hand into the barrel, swirling the pieces of paper around in an attempt to increase anticipation. "District 7, our female champion is, Clarissa Fray!"
I stopped cold.
This was not supposed to happen, I had it all planned out! They were going to pick a random girl whom I had no difficulty killing! I recalled the conversation Clary and I had had last week.
"You're such an idiot! Why do you always do what your father says?" She had stopped working, and starting pacing up and down the clearing in the forest. She was so mad, even though she had known this would be coming. I was getting angry too.
"Come on, you know me. I could never lose! Do you want to live out the rest of our lives living in those crappy houses, cutting down trees for the rest of your existence?" There are better ways-"
"And there are worse ways! In other districts, people are starving to death! I would choose what we have, together, over the possibility of losing you!"
"You will not lose me! I have been training my whole life for this-" She cut me off.
"With your father. I know. Freaking everyone knows. What was your father's philosophy again? Oh, right, 'To love is to destroy.' Well, I love you, Jace, and the time we have been together has been the happiest time of my life, so you can listen to your father or you can listen to me. Stay."
You guessed it, I hadn't. We hadn't spoken since.
Clary didn't cry. She didn't look at me either. She kept her eyes stubbornly fixed on a point just to the right of me. I was about to turn my eyes to see if she was looking at anything, when I realized where I was, and how much I must be showing on my face. I carefully smoothed off my emotions as I had learned to do so many years ago before I spotted my father in the crowd. He wasn't happy.
"You can listen to your father or you can listen to me."
I hadn't prepared for this. It took me until it was too late to realize I had chosen wrong.
If only I'd listened to her.
CLARY POV
If only he'd listened to me.
Bloody Jace. Always going on about what his father would want. His father had brainwashed him. This was poetic justice. What I had done to deserve this, however, was a mystery. If Byron had known what the situation was between us he would have been dancing across the stage with glee. Even now, he was positively beaming.
Jace, of course, showed no emotion.
At all.
Like always.
These past couple of weeks, excluding the most recent one, of course, I had thought that maybe he could change. Maybe have a goal other than murdering 23 other kids for strangers' entertainment.
I guess I was wrong.
I walked up to the stage, my mind swirling with anxiety and panic. I was the one who got to live any Panem child's nightmare. I wasn't going to delude myself with thoughts of beating the careers, but nor was I going to give up. I would stay in the game for as long as I could. I hated the thought of killing the weak tributes from poorer districts like 11 and 12, but I didn't hate it more than dying.
I didn't think about killing Jace.
Mom was the first one to come see me. I knew she would be. My mother is most probably the most tender-hearted and kind person you will ever meet. No one deserves to have their child taken from them, but my mom the least. She was crying, and didn't look like she was planning on stopping anytime soon. I needed her to stop, or else I would start crying too, but her only daughter was going away to never come back, and I couldn't begrudge her her display of sadness.
"Honey, I- I-" another round of sobs, "I want you to know that- that-" Abruptly, she surprised me. She brought her hands away from her eyes and sat up straighter. "You need to know that you have a chance. You're not a weak girl. You're not stupid."
"Mom-" I was pleading. She had to know that I wasn't going to win. I couldn't give her false hope.
"No! Clary, no matter what, there is always a chance! Your life will not be taken away like this!" Mom declared. I sighed. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. "Clary. You are in love with that boy. I know that, I can understand that. But please, please don't think your life is less important than his! I couldn't bear it if you didn't come home. Please.
That I could be sure of. "Mom, I will try. I will. And I will not give up my life for someone else. But you have to know how little chance there is of me making it. Please, don't think I'm going to win. I'm not."
It wasn't until I said it out loud that I realized just how true it was. These would be the final precious weeks of my life. I pulled Mom in for a hug, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. I tried to blink them away but they wouldn't go. A stray tear trickled down my cheek and on to Mom's shoulder. "Goodbye, Mom." I whispered.
JACE POV
"Remember what we talked about, son. You cannot let your little feelings get in the way of glory." This was the beginning of my father's speech. Not a tear, not an "I'll miss you", not even a simple "goodbye". My father spoke on, but my mind was too filled up with the thought of Clary in the arena, Clary dying, to pay the usual attention to detail my father had drilled into me.
"And what was that, on the stage? We rehearsed that, countless times!" Not understanding what my father was talking about, I stayed silent. "With that girl, Clarissa Fray! You don't know her, do you?" My father was furious, there was only one answer.
"Of course not, Father. I would never." I lied, my mind working to fabricate an excuse for my behavior, but I came up blank.
My father smiled. He could tell I wasn't being truthful.
"Right, of course you don't. You would have told me, wouldn't you?"
I only nodded. What else could I do?
"However, she does look like a good target." My father's voice was like razors. My mind refused to accept what my father was clearly about to say.
"Show yourself to be at the top from the start, you know?" This wasn't happening. How could it have come to this?
"I want you to kill her. First."
Thanks for reading, guys! I'll upload the next part as soon as I can. Feel free to review, all constructive criticism accepted!