Disclaimer: Super Smash Bros. and its many characters belong to various people at Nintendo. Some concepts and expy-styled characters were inspired by the works of Suzanne Collins, obviously. I have my own "real" work I'm seeking profit for, so I'm not profiting from this.

Notes: This is slated to be a series of side-stories / supplements to my previous fan fiction, National Anthem. Said story is a hybrid between Super Smash Bros. and The Hunger Games, though not a direct, full-blooded crossover. Any given story in this collection will contain heavy spoilers for the main fanfiction – so read it first if you haven't. I've had it in mind to do character-experience one-shots set in that particular alternate universe for a while, though my scope will be limited by characters I know well / games I've played.

(For Fan Fiction dot net and Archive of Our Own: Characters will be added to the summary-list as their stories are added to the pile).

Pit's rather lengthy tale is the first. It goes on the premise that the alternate universe of Ganondorf's "Brawl of Honor" takes place between actual Brawl and Melee' / replaces Brawl and so, he is from his world as it exists prior to the events of Uprising, though there are some references to it. There is also a reason (given in the original fic) as to why Ganondorf is able to con quest as he does, including breaking gods (just getting it out there for anyone who isn't listening to my "Read National Anthem first!" warning).

A GATHERING OF SACRIFICES

A supplemental side-bar of stories to National Anthem by Shadsie

THE FIRST TALE:

Laurels are for Victory

The boy did not like the looks that he was being given in the Training Hall. Most regards were looks of hunger, the glares of predators. The looks of pity bothered him more. He decided to raise his bow and show these people just what they were dealing with. They obviously were not well-versed in angelology and other mythic studies; otherwise, they would tremble in fear. Agents of the divine were nothing to mess around with, though Pit knew very well that looking cute could work to his advantage, as well.

Errant gods had always underestimated him because he was small. His big blue eyes evoked a sense of innocence and his white wings were more "fluffy" than magnificent. That was when the Captain of the Guard of the Goddess of Light would shoot such gods in the face with glorious magical weapons. Pit was a seasoned destroyer of monsters. Of course, this was a different setting. Monsters were generally soulless – or worse, made of souls corrupted beyond recognition, killed at mercy. The wickeder gods of his world had a general (and obnoxious, if you asked him) habit of being able to bring themselves back to life after a time. The people he was slated to fight at the command of an evil man had souls of their own and wouldn't be coming back to life.

"Oooh!" some of the occupants of the Hall exclaimed as he let loose an arrow of purest white light from the bow Lady Palutena had given him. The cloaked woman with the pale skin winched and recoiled, as if the ambient light from the arrow and the flash it made as it destroyed a target had actually hurt her. She was on the other side of the room. Pit gave a polite little bow as former Brawl Champions and their current charges alike applauded.

There were more gasps as the boy flexed his wings and called up the blessing that was housed in them. He flapped upward until he alighted upon a platform. Ropes hung from the ceiling between suspended platforms. This was all Palutena could do for him. The five-minutes of sustained flight using her dangerous power in his home-universe was an annoying enough limit to deal with. Pit currently carried a small amount of that power in his wings that he could activate at will, but it lasted much less than his limit – enough to "jump" with, but not enough to remain airborne. His wings would not burn under such a "dim" light, but he would drop like a rock. Pit was careful not to let anyone know that he was an angel who could not fly. It was better to let him think that he just did not want to go zipping around recklessly.

He dismantled Palutena's bow and idly twirled the curved swords that made it up for a while. He jumped around and down on the lower platforms just to show off. He was trying to look intimidating. After all, if all of the others chosen to fight were afraid of him, maybe they'd leave him alone long enough for him to form a plan to get out of this situation.

"Oooh, he's so cute!" cooed a blonde woman in a pink dress. Pit cringed. She wasn't a competitor – just the liaison who organized meetings and preparation. Miss Kumquat was it? No… Peach, Miss Peach… some kind of a fruit. Peach had gone out of her way to try to make him feel welcome when he'd arrived – that is, was dragged – to this place earlier in the week.

Lady Palutena could not help him. In fact, Pit was doing this for her – as with anything important that he did.

The sorcerer, Ganondorf, had sent his own armies into his world. He had managed to subjugate even the gods. Of course, he had claimed to be a god himself - the God of Power. Once his will had been unleashed upon Angel Land, any deities and their servants who'd fought him found themselves destroyed or chained within their own temples. It was rumored that Hades had struck a deal with the invader, but Pit hadn't seen them together. Palutena had been the last holdout. Most of the Centurions had fallen – without her being able to revive them. Viridi, the Goddess of Nature, who had also put up the biggest fight, had been sealed within a sacred oak. When Ganondorf had announced a desire for a warrior to fight in his deadly Brawl tournament, he had originally chosen Palutena; with the stipulation that she would wear the manacles of darkness he'd given her to de-power her while in the Arena. Other fighters did need a shot at destroying her to keep the game exciting, after all.

Pit had volunteered in her stead, despite the notable fact that he was, at the time of the call, dying. He'd fought the invasion until his body had been filled with bulbin-arrows and the dark-magic that had been wielded by Ganondorf's allies among Twilight creatures. His wings were broken. He'd retreated to stand between Palutena and the invaders, slowly losing his hold on life. The angel did not hesitate, even as he'd struggled to stand.

His tribute was accepted. Palutena was released from her manacles crafted of Ancient Hyrulean dark-magic just long enough to heal him up and to bestow her blessing upon his wings.

"I'll return to Skyworld victorious!" he bragged, trying to stop his goddess' tears. Lady Palutena kissed him on the forehead and gave him the special bow.

"Fight hard and come home to me," she said. "I believe in you." It was the last he'd heard from her besides "Piiiit!" as a pair of Moblin guards carried him down through the clouds and through a dimensional portal. Pit remembered her reaching out to him. He'd reached out to her.

Miss Peach had tried to make him feel better when she'd showed him Smash City, but there was no "better." Lady Palutena was not with him. His golden laurel-crown, which had magical properties and through which she communicated with him was silent. He tried to raise her on it, calling to the heavens. There was nothing.

If he fell, Pit did not know if Palutena could bring him back. She probably could not – not in this world where the supreme god seemed to be Ganondorf. Pit did not even know for certain if his soul would be able to gravitate back to her from here. If he died, he might find himself in the Underworld soul-to-face with some of his vengeful enemies, unarmed. He might be trapped in this plane. He might even fade. The winged boy tried not to think about it. The little angel knew that the only option was to return victorious. Well, that or try to find something wrong with the arena which he could exploit. One did not spend as much time playing videogames as Pit did without looking for glitches and non-obvious solutions to puzzles.

He sized up the competition. Each combatant brought a pang to his heart. Bowser he could think of as any dragon – he wasn't even as big as the Hewdraw, but from what he'd overheard from Mario's conversations, he was apparently quite a villain. Pit decided he'd have little problem putting him down, if that was so. It was likely to come down to self-defense. The blue-haired swordsman with the enormous sword vaguely reminded him of a human friend back home… he didn't want to think about that. The gorilla was intimidating and the monkey was cute… a thought crossed his mind of "putting animals down humanely."

What am I thinking? echoed in his mind.

Samus, for whatever reason, made him think of a "big sister he'd never had." He watched her move as she trained and almost got a spasm of heroic admiration. She was soooo cool. He'd decided that he should avoid her for as long as possible. The ninja was cool, too… and scary. Sheik would appear behind him on a platform without warning and then disappear in a puff of smoke from something she threw. The swordsman in green clothing frightened him. He had the eyes of a predator. Pit did not like that man at all, and not just because he'd joked about "tasty chicken wings" at him. No, it was the comment about "tearing out his pretty little throat." Pit suspected that he was merely trying to be intimidating, just like he was trying and failing at. There was something about that rival's eyes that was off – they were beast-eyes, but they struck Pit as somewhat sad when he'd gotten a good, full look at his face. The young man looked like a soldier behind enemy lines prepared to do everything that he had to but nothing that he wanted to in order to survive.

Another swordsman with wings was on the roster, but Pit found him far too intimidating to talk to, and so contented himself with watching the dark knight's impressive sword-styles. He spoke briefly with the space-pilots, both the Champion and the current slated fighter. Of course, the subject the three spoke of at length was flight and a shared love of the air and open space. Both the bird-man and the fox-man wondered aloud when the Champion's buddy "Toki" was going to show up so they could knock off and all go to one of the city's bars together.

"I'm old enough!" Pit protested when they told him to stay at the hall and hotel. "I'm older than I look! And I drink red wine all the time back home!"

They'd just laughed. Again, Pit remembered that he had a certain kind of appearance. The "drink of the gods" didn't have a tendency to get him drunk, anyway.

He didn't have much luck talking to the pokemon that were being sent into this slaughter. He had no understanding of their language, not even in the manner of a trainer. Pit got the strangest feeling that Bulbasaur was only here due to a mistake by the "author" – that an Ivysaur was supposed to be in his place, but that the "author" had accepted the mistake as minor and had just gone with it. Charizard gave Pit a thrill of fear – for he imagined being caught in the air by that creature and having his wings burned by its breath.

He was on the ground floor when he heard happy calls of "Toki!" Pit turned around to see a man who looked like the beast-eyed swordsman and a short boy in similar clothing enter the Training Hall. Both "Toki" and the boy had clothing that was brighter than the other guy's. The young one looked around warily before running right up to him and the target range.

The boy eyed the room before shyly addressing Pit. "You…um… are you one of the fighters? Mr. Kokirin tried to tell me about the people I'd be going into the Stage with…"

"Yeah," Pit answered, a hand on his hip. "The name's Pit."

"Link," the boy answered, "but Mr. Kokirin calls me Tiny, 'cause there's another Link here. You kind of remind me of a friend I have… the feathers."

"Really?" Pit asked. He sighed. This kid was young. That's when he remembered… Miss Peach had shown him video of the call for fighters. Link…. This was Link Outsetter. He had volunteered to keep his younger sister out of the running. Pit smiled sadly and put a hand on Link's shoulder. "I… saw what you did… on video. It was very brave. Do you want to spar? My bow turns into a pair of swords."

Link shook his head. "I heard from Miss Peach that you make arrows out of light. I want to see that."

Pit obliged, taking down a few targets. He practiced directing his arrows. The boy was impressed.

Pit pointed to Link's sword and shield. "You should practice. There are a lot of strong fighters here. I've been watching them all day. I know what this game is, but you deserve to have a chance."

"Let me take care of my Champion first," Link said. "I think this might be harder on him than on me."

Pit took the platforms some more before heading back across the room for some water from the cooler. His eyes caught the infamous "Toki's" for a moment. They were defiant eyes set in a defeated face attached to a body that smelled like the floor of a dive-bar. The winged boy considered little Link lucky to have someone to mentor him. He had no one, himself. He touched his laurel-crown, tracing his fingers across the top of one side of it. The crown remained silent and he felt utterly alone.

"Pit?" called a voice from behind the door of his room just as he was starting to relax. Tense muscles had been his constant companion since he'd gotten here, as well as an un-quiet mind. "Mr. Icarus?"

It was Peach. She kept calling him that, "Mr. Icarus," though she'd slipped up once and had called him "Mr. Ikari." It wasn't his actual surname. Pit had none. He was just "Pit." Apparently, his rank was being treated here like a name. One would think that being an "Icarus Class" angel would portend bad luck, but it was a species-name that Palutena had come up with because she valued ambition. It also carried an appropriate edge of danger, as "flying too close to her light" was inherently hazardous. The gaining of wisdom never came without risk and seldom came without pain – and it was a thing that many considered it worth dying for.

To him, Lady Palutena was definitely worth dying for. What he was having trouble with was figuring out the quickest, cleanest, kindest way to kill innocent mortals for the sake of returning to her. He especially did not want to be the one to dispatch that little Link boy, nor did he wish to see him die. He hoped that it would happen far away from him and that the young hero would be able to get his licks in before going down.

"Mr. Icarus?"

Pit opened the door, already in sleepwear. The hotel room had graciously provided him a hot tub that mimicked the kind of hot spring that existed in his world. He'd been taking advantage of it, just as he'd been taking advantage of room service and catering. The lingering flavor of roast lamb and vanilla ice cream was on his breath and sleep was on his mind. He yawned loudly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Icarus," Peach apologized. "The stylists need to borrow you. They had an idea for the public presentation tomorrow."

"What kiiiiaaaa-iind…of… idea?" the angel yawned out. "And I said before, you can call me Pit."

"Oh, why would I be uncouth like that, dear?" she said, taking him by the hand. "Who do you take me for? Our dear Toki? Oh, don't worry about your clothing, darling. We're going to have to strip you down, anyway, if we don't want to stain anything you're wearing…"

"Strip?" Pit squeaked. "No… really, I should just get back to bed…"

"Oh, you are too shy," Peach insisted, leading him on. "Our people are professionals."

"I don't want anyone staring at the sacred buns! Or the holy spear!"

"President Ganondorf wants all of the fighters to impress. The crowds enjoy it. Come along now. We'll be quick."

And that is how Pit found himself standing in presentation the next morning before the roaring crowds of Smash City in a shimmering golden toga with yellow-tinted and gold-edged wings. His feathers had been carefully combed and dipped and he was told not to wash the color out until after the day's events. He'd expressed concern about how the gold might weigh him down, gum up his feathers and make him shiny and easily seen in the arena. He was told that everything would easily rinse away.

He lifted his bow and put on a smile for the people in the old stage – unused for combat anymore – that had been "Pokemon Stadium." He called the light-blessing into his wings and did a short circle above the other victims. He was met in the air by Meta Knight clad in pearly armor and Charizard, who'd been given golden armor dressed in rubies. Link d' Ordon of Old Hyrule, the elder, beast-eyed version of the "Link" model, was clad in a red velvet and bejeweled armor version of his usual wear. Link Outsetter had much humbler wear, surprisingly – an outfit in drab colors, green and brown, with his hair dyed darker. It was meant, Pit had heard, to evoke a woodsy, "rugged" look appropriate to wild-living heroes. Most of the fighters slated to try to survive it out this year were clad in shining things, so the "rustic" look was highly unusual. Bowser's platinum shell was especially dazzling.

Pit had another day of rest and a chance to think things through before the next day, when the sacrificial warriors were to enter the stage. Pit hadn't had much experience with force-fields, but he knew that was what was going to be surrounding the countryside everyone was going to be randomly dropped into. He stayed up a little too late, trying to get the stupid temporary gold paint out of his wings.

The angel was dropped into the thick of an Old Hyrulean forest. The transport platform ("angelic platforms" they were called – he thought about the irony) let him down by a still pond. It looked like it was a sacred spring of some sort, or would have been if the area hadn't been altered by President Ganondorf's sorcery. Pit gazed at his reflection in the water. Tricks of the light filtering in through the leaves on the trees made his reflection look dark to him. His wings and his hair appeared black in the mirror-image. His counterpart's eyes were red and angry. He almost felt like the image was talking to him, though it was inside his head. "Yeah, how are we gonna get outta this one? We need to be tough and show no mercy. I don't want to die here! Do you hear me, Pit-Stain?"

Pit shook his head and splashed the reflection away into ripples. He'd been given a small canteen – a gift from Miss Peach, though he figured everyone had probably been given one. He dipped it into the water. He briefly wondered about any sicknesses that might be lurking in the pool, but he sensed a residual holiness left behind from whatever had once lived there. Besides, he was an angel and there were very few diseases they could catch. It was the wings his people had to worry about. Damage to them damaged their life-force. Sheared feathers posed no problem, but anything that happened to the flesh and the bone…

The winged boy walked a little way in the woods before taking to the air and landing in a tree to assess his surroundings. He could see the subtle glimmer in the force-field dome above him. He tensed as he saw the gray shape of a wolf down in a valley. He relaxed when he saw other wolves. For a moment, he thought it was Link d' Ordon, entirely too close to his area. Pit had seen him transform into a wolf in the Training Hall. The angel remained wary. He'd been briefed that there would be many dangers in the arena; including animals and monsters native to the world he was in. Normal wolves were something he thought easier to deal with than d'Ordon. He thought he caught a glimpse of an airborne camera. He thought about shooting it out of the sky, but worried that such and act would give away his location.

He wasn't ready to kill anyone yet.

Pit spent the rest of the day looking for food. He'd found a few mushrooms, but he did not touch the things, for fear that they might be deadly. He did see a few bright red "death angels," which he knew would do to his liver what the eagle did to Prometheus'. The ones that had beady eyes looked like the ones he'd seen Mr. Mario eating at the last communal dinner before game-day, but Pit didn't trust them. Palutena wasn't going to be dropping him little gifts here. He missed those gifts. Eventually, he huddled up to sleep between the middle branches of a tree – not high enough to be easily spotted, nor on the ground. He merely dozed, his bow upon his knees and his shivering white wings wrapped around his body for warmth.

Sometime later, the winged boy wandered, deciding to venture out of the little area where he'd been dropped. He kept wary. A few death-announcements had already been made. He looked for both potential food and enemies. What he found was a young swordsman clad in Kelly green.

As Link Outsetter raised his sword and shield, Pit raised his bow. He formed an arrow of light upon it. This was a nightmare. He liked Link, in as much as he'd gotten to know him in the Training Hall. A few tense breaths later, and Link was lowering his weapons.

"I don't want to do this."

Pit lowered his bow. "I don't want to do this, either," he said. He stood and stared at the boy. He'd wanted to go it alone, to survive it out without attachments. It seemed that the Fates were not with his plan.

"The two of us aren't going to come out of this together, you know." Pit wanted to remind Link exactly what they'd been forced into. He gauged whether or not Link wanted to risk his heart on an alliance.

Link, for his part was surprisingly chipper. He spoke of how "Little guys should stick together."

Pit decided that the two of them ought to see how far they could go together. If he was going to go home to Lady Palutena, he was going to have to watch the kid die. He determined himself not to be the one to make it happen. If they "lucked out" to be the last ones left… well, he'd find some way out of this. He could think about it later.

"Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?" Pit asked.

Link shook his head. "No. I had a mountain-side cave, but I… kinda… found out that it's been taken over."

"Trees are good. Perch up in a tree and you're off the cold ground and it's not as easy for someone to come up on you and cut your throat as you sleep."

Link shuddered. "Y-yeah… but I'm not a bird. Getting up into a tree must be easy for you."

"You can climb, can't you?"

"Hyup."

"I'm sorry if I'm sounding too morbid," Pit apologized. "I may not look like it to you, but I'm a commissioned military officer. Strategy is important."

"So I've heard."

"Ah! This tree looks like a good one." Pit announced as he found a nice place to sleep. "Those branches right up there." He pointed. "Need a boost up?"

Link struck his sword into the tree-bark and used it as an anchor to start clambering up. Pit gaped. The kid was quick. He launched himself up and started making a reasonably comfortable nest by weaving the smaller branches together. As he helped Link up into the nest, his stomach growled loudly.

"Was that yours or mine?" Link laughed.

"Hungry?"

"I haven't had more than a few berries since I got here!"

"I was flying around a little earlier today," Pit said. "I saw a stream. It might have fish. Do you like sushi?"

Link made a face. "Can't you cook? I like grilled fish. I come from a fishing village."

"I've been hesitant to make a fire…" Pit confessed.

"You don't want anyone to see you, right? My mentor told me all about fires and smoke and how you need to make false fires if you can to throw people off your trail."

"Eh… I have a kind of different thing with fire," Pit said, settling into the nest and twitching his wings uncomfortably. "I've had my feathers catch fire every once in a while. Long story. I'm just really careful around flame."

"Don't worry," Link said. "We aren't anywhere near the sun…"

"Nor anywhere near my goddess…" Pit whispered.

The next day found Pit and his ally taking a high trail. Pit played lookout, flying up into a tall, dead tree. He spied and glided back down to find Link drawing a symbol in the dirt with a bit of fallen branch.

"What is that?" the winged boy asked.

"The Triforce," Link explained. "It is the greatest sacred object in my world – well, in all of the versions of Hyrule. The top triangle represents the essence of power and the other triangles represent courage and wisdom. They are supposed to be golden and it's said that a person with a balanced heart can make wishes on the whole thing. Some people in my world don't really know what it is, though… they look for the 'Triumph Forks.' It was left to us by our creator-goddesses. I'm hoping I can gain their favor, maybe…. People in my village put triangles on their doors to protect their homes… Maybe they'll see this and hear my wish for us both to get out of this."

"I don't know if Palutena can hear me from this world."

"Palu?"

"My Goddess of Light…" Pit briefly explained. He spoke of being under her command. He sat down next to the young swordsman and they make some dark jokes about mortality and the clothing worn by heroes. They stretch out and relax for a bit, before Pit is forced to explain how he cannot take sustained flight. Link, for his part, complains of his own lack of swimming skills inappropriate to the child of an island. The conversation turns to food quickly.

"Mmmm… Floor-pie."

Yep, Pit decided, the both of them were definitely loopy from having had so little to eat lately. He was glad that he'd taken advantage of the services in the Smash City hotel they'd all been put up in. However, the angel had a fairly high metabolism. At this point, he could eat a bakery full of pies as well as an entire malt shop's worth of floor-ice cream. Why were they both thinking of pie? It was so random… At least he wasn't thinking about a gummi Venus DiMilo or something called "Tommaco," except that he just did… also random…

"I like your hat…" Pit said, trying to take his thoughts off food that did not exist for him. He sat cross-legged and pointed at Link's windsock hat, tracing its curve. "It looks good with your pointy ears… like it's perfectly matched."

"I like your crown. What is it? Laurels?"

"Yeah," Pit said, taking it off and resting it in his hands. He held it in one hand and traced the individual leaves with the fingers of the other. "Laurels stand for victory. Wearing this reminds me of how strong I've been in all my battles. It's very special. Lady Palutena gave it to me. In my world, she speaks to me through it… but I haven't heard her in this world…"

"May I see it?" the boy asked.

"Just be careful with it, okay?"

"You can look at my hat." Link took his windsock-off and handed it to Pit, while Pit handed over his laurel-crown. Link rested the crown upon his head, where it sat rather well. Pit put Link's hat on. It rested awkwardly over his hair. They exchanged smiles and laughed at each other.

"It's going down over my eyes!" Pit laughed. He took the hat off and took a long look at the crowned Link. "Wow. That actually looks really good on you."

"It's not really of my world," Link said, removing the laurels and handing them back to Pit, taking his hat back. "All the legendary heroes of my world wore goofy hats like this. They catch any dramatic wind."

Pit affixed his crown back upon its rightful head. "My headgear might not catch the wind, but that's what my wings are for. My victory-crown marks me as a servant of the Goddess Palutena."

"It must be neat to be close to your gods."

"She brings light to the land and keeps wisdom and justice," Pit said, beaming up with pride.

"You really care about her…"

"Of course! We… we have to find a way out of this. I have to get home to her. She needs me… And I need her."

"I want to go home to my sister and my grandma. They need me. They're probably watching us right now, worried sick about me."

"Yeah… probably…" Pit sighed, sitting up and hugging his legs. "We both have our families, though mine's not like a mortal's… I'm glad we're allies, Link. I feel… less alone."

"My sister Aryll would really love you," Link said. "She'd want to pet your wings. She adores seagulls because she likes their wings and the way they bob around. Not that you bob around when you walk or anything… you know what I mean…"

"We should get up and scout around… see if we can find something, anything to eat! I'm starving!"

All little Link had to do was to cut some bushes to find a present the stage-staff had granted them, a blessing from on high, of sorts. Pie – several plates of glorious pie! Needless to say, the swordsman and the angel stuffed themselves – after which they had a burping contest, because they were a pair of adolescent boys.

They found a cave they wanted to camp in, warm and dry. Near to this place was a formation of rocks that wasn't has high as the trees, but made a nice vantage point. However, as soon as they'd found a perfect camp to defend, Pit and Link had their first confrontation.

It did not go well for them.

Pit spied something from his standing position atop the rocks. He saw something moving in the bushes at the edge of the trees bordering the clearing. It looked dark and furry. He raised his bow. However, he did not have time to fully draw back and release a light-arrow before a heavy shape burst forth and upward. He caught a good look at the beast's face and its bared teeth.

It was coming for his "pretty little throat."

Link d' Ordon, in wolf form. Pit flinched and side-stepped, but it was too late to break his bow apart into swords to defend himself with. Link Outsetter shouted. Pit barely registered it. Everything happened in a split-instant, but time seemed to slow for Palutena's guard-captain.

Sudden pain and the grip of firm jaws caught the arch of the angel's left wing. As Pit slipped and fell off the stone formation, the heat and hair of over one-hundred pounds of murderous animal came with him. Tender flesh tore as a bone wrenched from its joint under the pressure of that weight. To tell the truth, Pit actually heard a sharp popping sound before the pain hit. He felt only the wetness of blood, too, before his nerves screamed. Of course, when they did, it was pure, unfiltered agony.

The wolf jumped off of him and raced toward the younger Link. Pit pulled himself up and pawed around the ground, looking for his bow. Blood ran down his left hand, both sticky and slick. His fingers were shaking and he couldn't get his hand around the weapon. The angel was having trouble figuring out what was going on.

Link… Link was in trouble… Pit's knees buckled. He watched the wolf run off, leaving a trail of blood from its rump. Link stood and panted, holding a twitching wolf's tail, victorious.

He drops it and runs to Pit. The winged boy feels a tug at his shoulder. He thinks he sees a bit of white feather out of his peripheral vision. The pain begins to hit him in force – throbbing and fire. He screams, scaring the small birds from the trees. In the back of his mind, Pit knows that this could give away his position, but he does not care. It is almost as if he's not in control of his body. The screams rip themselves from his lungs with every slight movement.

"Pit, Pit, Pit…." Link whispers. Pit feels a hand on his right shoulder. "Stay still."

"Is it bad?" Pit pants out. "I can't tell what happened."

Link's face blanches. "Just stay still, okay?"

Pit hears the boy behind him invoke a goddess. He turns around just enough to get a look at Link speaking into a glowing stone, asking it for advice. He was using a talisman to try to communicate with his gods, Pit figured. The angel wondered if Link's gods would hear him better from here than his goddess did. Pit starts screaming again, having wrenched the wound. He felt like a heavy object was just barely attached to him by a thread, similar to a loosened baby-tooth, but in the shoulder and far, far more painful. He twitched his shoulder and felt the grinding of bone. The boy choked and panted. He was still awake, feeling like he was starting to go blind. He wasn't quite blacking out, just on the edge of it.

"Alright, Pit," Link said, pale-faced and red-eyed. "I need you to bite down on this for moment and to think of something beautiful. I'm so, so sorry."

Before saying anything more, Link thrust a thick, smooth stick into Pit's mouth.

"Mmmfph!" came the angel's reply.

Pit closed his eyes, but before he could spare a thought for Skyworld or Palutena's green eyes, the swiftest, sharpest pain he'd ever felt ripped through his shoulder and caused his back to spasm. He bit into the wood in his mouth hard. He spit the stick out and felt around at the strange sensation tickling his left thigh. He found himself pulling the object into his lap. It was his wing – his pure, white wing flecked in blood.

Pit forgot the pain in his back for a moment, just staring at the wing. He stroked the feathers gently, remembering how Palutena sometimes softly stroked his wings when he was sad. The appendage was still warm. He could feel the warmth of his own life in the fleshy parts. He'd never fly again. Not like this. His fondest wish was to be able to fly on his own, but now he couldn't fly even under a blessing. He did not cry. He was too shocked. He'd never seen the back of his wing before – not without a mirror. It was so white, so beautiful…

Link snatched it out of his hands and tossed it into the bushes. "Come on," he commanded. He didn't have his hat on. Standing up slowly, with Link's help, he noticed a warm, scraping feeling against the wound on his back. He carefully reached around and touched his side. The top part of his toga was pinned over him tighter than it was before. Link had torn up his hat and used it as bandaging, pinning it over the wound.

"I'm sorry," Pit whispered weakly as he followed Link. "It was…It was a nice hat."

"Don't worry about it," Link said. "We need to get you somewhere safe, okay? Keep on walking."

Link cut into a tree with his sword and peeled off a bit of the inner bark. "Chew on this. It'll help with the pain."

Pit obeyed. His mouth felt dry and he felt tired. His entire body ached. He twitched his right wing softly, just to make sure it was still there. This brought a crashing wave of pain as twitching one wing caused the muscles around the wound of the absent one to jerk.

"Hey, look…" Link brought the wounded angel's attention to something that was laid over a branch outside the entrance to the cave they'd been interested in. It was a pair of blankets. "Looks like the Smash City crowd's taken some mercy on us again."

Pit smiled weakly. He went to the back of the cave and laid down in the dirt. He'd stopped caring about the pain he was in, just too tired to do much of anything. To his surprise, he found Link draping a blanket over him and lifting his head to place the second one, still folded, beneath him. Too exhausted to protest, Pit felt Link's fingers trace over his head and remove his crown, which the swordsman rested next to him.

"Why..? Pit choked out.

"Don't worry," Link said. "It's still your victory… I just thought you might be more comfortable without it."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Hey, don't you need a blanket, too? If they gave us two of them…"

"I'm alright. I sleep without anything over me in the lookout tower back home all the time."

"Can't fly n'more…" Pit said, drifting just over oblivion.

"You don't need to," Link answered.

Pit awoke to the smell of cooking meat. He wearily dragged himself up. The pain in his shoulder reminded him that he was alive. He grabbed his head.

"It…it was real!" he gasped suddenly. "It really happened… I lost my wing…"

"I'm afraid so," Link said sadly, offering him a chunk of something. "Eat this. It might help you get stronger. We're both hungry."

Pit gingerly took the meat chunk into his mouth, which he then chomped down ravenously. "More… do we have more?"

Link gave him a larger meat-strip. "It's pretty good, isn't it?"

"It tastes like chicken," Pit declared. "Lady Palutena sometimes wondered what I might taste like… the centurions used to make fun of me, saying my wings were like chicken wings…"

Right then, Pit got a horrified look on his face and let a gobbet of meat drop from his lips. "Liiiiiink…" he moaned, "You didn't… You didn't do anything weird with my wing, did you?"

Link got an equally horrified look. "Oh, you really DID lose a lot of blood! Why would you even think that?"

The little swordsman shuffled out of the way to reveal the campfire he had built and the bird carcass that was roasting over it. "I got lucky," he said. "I went down to the creek by here to get us some water and found a cuccoo all alone and took it."

"Cuccoo?"

"Hyrulean chicken. It's a good thing I was able to get it alone. If there had been a flock around, I might not have made it back. They're delicious, but you have to be careful around them because they're vicious." He then added, "Pigs in my country are the same way…"

"More then!" Pit exclaimed.

Link laughed, tearing off the drumsticks for them both to share.

That evening, the two of them sensed they were being watched. They sat by the fire, talking. Pit mourned his loss of flight and they got to talking about the goddesses of their world. Pit felt brighter talking about Palutena. If they somehow got out of this together, she would definitely heal him and set things right!

They spoke of morbid things, of the way the Brawl was supposed to go as well. Pit tells Link of his wish to make a stand against Ganondorf. This brings a smile from the boy. They were still in this together.

Link starts a storytelling-session. He decides to tell Pit all about a race of bird-people that he knows. The broken angel listens and it makes him happy. It distracts him from his pain. He thinks their island is a sight-seeing spot he might like to visit.

Pit's dreams that night are filled with darkness and the smell of ashes. He fights his way through the Underworld, destroying monsters and trying not to be swallowed up by the poisoned pools or the river. He is face-to-face with a Reaper when he wakes up. His blankets are sweaty and his back and shoulder have settled into a dull throb. He half-crawls out of his blanket to a quiet section of the cave and unloads what little bit of water is in his stomach onto the floor of the cavern. He immediately feels cold and goes back to wrap the blanket around his body.

He realizes that he has all the symptoms of a mortal sickness. He'd never had such a thing before, but he knew about it. Pit supposed it was the result of losing half of where his life-force was housed. An angel's life was in his wings. He did not feel like he was running on half-life, just sick.

"Fever," Link said, putting his small hand on Pit's scalp after approaching. "Sit up. I need to check your wound."

Pit obeyed. "Do you… know what you're doing…medically speaking?" he asked.

"Not really, but I know a little bit. My Grandma does healing. She takes care of sailors who've been hurt n' stuff."

"Do I get to sue you for malpractice later?" Pit joked.

"No, you do not," Link answered with a smirk as he carefully undid the bandages he'd hastily prepared. "I don't think I can remove these all the way right now without making you bleed too much. We could use one of the blankets as bandaging, but they're probably just as dirty. Oh…no…."

"What?" Pit said, jerking up and wincing, "What is it?"

"I didn't think something like this would set in so quickly. I'm seeing pus and stuff, signs of infection."

"And that means?" Pit asked.

"You need actual medical attention."

"Well, I knew that. This is why I'm sick, right?"

"Hyup. If it doesn't subside, it'll kill you."

"Great…"

"You should rest. You might be able to knock it out of you rest enough, at least Grandma says that the best thing to do when you're sick is sleep."

"I've never been sick before… like this," Pit confessed, fear edging his voice. "I'm an angel. This kind of thing doesn't happen to us."

"It happened."

"I'm gonna…. Get up and keep watch."

A scowl came over Link's face. "Lay. Down. Pit."

Over the days, Pit drifts in and out of dreams. He fights monsters and darkness to stay alive. He manages to avoid the Reapers. He hates the dream where he's been turned into an eggplant and Lady Palutena is slicing him up for tempura most of all. The dream where he is a small, bobble-headed creature that cannot stop punctuating everything he says with "icus" is almost as bad. At least he was flying all the time in that dream and not a vegetable.

The one-winged boy drinks an unpleasant red liquid that Link prepares for him. When he asks about it, Link talks about how he actually talks to his mentor on his token – the stone he keeps in his pocket – and pretends to be praying in order to keep the illegal communication secret. Mr. Kokirin, apparently, had a little knowledge of field-medicine and was trying to help with a recipe for a wild draught he knew. Pit's crown is his token, so this news makes him feel even lonelier for it being completely dead.

It helps ease his aches, but he is prompted to ask; "Can we trust Toki on this? For all we know, he might be trying to poison me so you can win."

Link launched into a tirade, cursing Pit with names in many shades of Hylian, which the angel did not understand and decided he did not want to know. After he'd gotten the shock and anger out of his system, he panted and sighed. "I'm sorry, Pit. You're sick and you probably aren't thinking straight… We can trust him. He wouldn't do that to you. He likes you."

"Really? I thought he'd see me as a rival."

"He's on our side." Link then drops to a low whisper, in case the area's hidden audio equipment might pick up what he was saying. "Toki has more reason to hate Ganondorf than anyone, so if we can defy his rules by getting out together, he's all for it."

"I'd think it would be easier to consider me a mercy-kill."

"Have some more red-potion. You're still in a lot of pain, aren't you?"

"Yes. But don't worry or anything. I'm not done yet. No matter how many times I've been finished off, I don't go down easy!"

"You've…been finished off?"

"In my world, the gods can bring their servants back from death. Lady Palutena has always had my back. I don't think she's able to help me now… not here. It's all the more reason to see it through and get back to her. I suppose if I… if I don't make it… she can always raise up another guard-captain, but she won't like it. She'll cry. I can't talk to her right now, but I bet she's watching. I know she's worried."

What Pit didn't want to tell Link was that he already felt himself going. He could smell the infection on him as it got worse. He smelled the distinct scent of Reaper somewhere nearby, just behind him whenever he lay down and got up and whenever he climbed the rock formation to keep watch over the camp. He never saw any soul-carriers; he only caught something of a spiritual whiff of their stench. He spent his time resting when Link went out and away to gather what little food they'd been eating and to get the syrup for making the medicine.

The last morning of the Brawl of Honor found Pit awakening after a terrible dream in which he was flying with both wings, but his wings were burning. He was diving through the air, trying to save the boy he'd seen in his reflection, that shadowy version of himself. He left the dream still falling, going down in flames. When he's snorted to consciousness, he thought it was real for a moment, since the wound where his left wing used to be was burning with pain and he felt hot all over. He hauled himself up, smoothed out his dirty toga, ate a few nuts and wild bird eggs with Link, put his crown on, chewed a piece of bark and hauled himself up on the rocks.

Bowser came for them. Pit watched as Link lost his innocence in the most spectacular way possible.

The green-clothed boy had slain the dragon, staining his soul with blood to save someone who was already dying. Pit felt guilty, but there wasn't time to ponder as the pack of Wolfos came out of the woods in pursuit of a far more familiar wolf.

Everything that happened after that was strange. Link d'Ordon spoke, loud and clear to the creatures that were trying to destroy him. The strangest thing that happened was the golden wolf that appeared out of nowhere. Pit would have taken it as a fever-apparition if Link hadn't seen it, too, and if d'Ordon hadn't started speaking to it. Clearly, this creature was something from his life, his story – his True Game. D'Ordon was making whines and cries of… remorse.

Pit was stunned at this whole spectacle. When the golden wolf and the monster-wolves attack Link d'Ordon and start tearing him apart, the angel decides that he cannot take the screams. He picks up his bow, wills the last of his energy into it, and lets fly, killing d'Ordon swiftly. In a cloak of shadow, the wolf transforms into the fresh corpse of a young man – one staring skyward with defeated, repentant eyes.

The beasts depart and that's when Pit goes down. His shaking legs give way. He falls and Link catches him. There's a brief sharp pain in the angel's back as the little swordsman touches the sore spot of his bandaged wound. Pit feels his skin going numb and his muscles going slack. He cannot fight it away this time. The Reaper-smell is all around him. It feels similar to what he's felt before, but not entirely the same. One thing he does know is that he's definitely finished.

Link's face is distressed. His eyes are sad. Pit doesn't want him to be sad. He realizes that they are the last two fighters left. Link will be the winner. Pit is glad that Link will be the victor. He reminds Link of the family he'd told him about.

Lady Palutena will just get another captain, the angel figures. Given the lifespan of gods, she may even forget him after a time, after moving on. That's when Pit starts to feel like he's flying… separating from himself. He sees Palutena. He is standing above him in a spectral-form, offering out her arms to him.

"You can fly on you own now," the image says. Pit doesn't know whether she is real or not real, but doesn't care. "It is time for you to soar."

Pit can feel a smile tug at his lips as he does just that. Perhaps he's trying extra hard to depart on that note, to try to help Link not grieve too much. To die smiling is both the least and best he can do. Link has made it to the end, at least. His friend deserves the victory. He feels the very last of his breath shudder from his body's lungs as the vision of Lady Palutena embraces him.

It takes a few minutes after the announcement for Link to accept that Pit is gone. He lays the body down gently and tucks the remaining wing close-in. He smoothes out the toga, trying to make his friend look presentable, for he knows the cameras are watching.

Dammit, why did he have to smile? Link thinks. It looks… wrong. The one-winged boy is too still for smiling to be appropriate. He sighs and takes the golden laurel-crown off Pit's head and holds it to his chest.

"Laurels are for victory," he says with defeat. He jumps down off the rock and runs into the woods before the cleanup crew arrives.

Well, this turned out longer than I thought it would. I had a lot to say in profiling Pit after I'd actually played his games, I guess. My ideas for the Pikachu-story seem like they might turn out just as long. Yep, I may just have a side-story series here that will turn out longer than the fic it's based on.