Hey look, I made a thing!
Don't ask me why this came into my head, one moment I was pondering whether or not to watch The hunger Games, the next I was thinking 'what if Reylo?' and this monstrosity was born.
A couple of things to note. Firstly, if you are unfamiliar with the basic concept/plot of The Hunger Games, I would suggest reading a quick summary. The basic idea if you can't be bothered though is 24 teens aged 12 to 18 are shoved into an arena to fight to the death for the amusement of the people of the Capitol. Cheery.
The ages in this story are sixteen for Rey (the age of consent in my country) and eighteen for Kylo, but they have the same personality as in the movies, and if you'd like to picture them older, be my guest.
There will be universe-canonical death in this fic, but I'm not going to flag it at the top of the chapters as I believe that it entirely removes the suspense, so consider yourself warned!
I think that that's pretty much it for now, so may the Force be ever in your favour and I hope you enjoy!
Rey hissed as she tugged on the stubborn piece of metal, a torn edge slicing into her palm. She let go of the rusty converter, knowing that the worthless piece of junk probably wouldn't be worth a crumb.
The sun had just started to peek over the trees illuminating the space around her. Huge tanks lay half buried in the dirt, more moss than metal, and the uneven ground told the tale of the battle that had taken place over half a century before. The ancient weapons had sunk slowly into the earth as a ship would into the waves of the ocean. Young trees had taken root and grown quickly from the blood-rich soil, their leaves thick and sparkling green in the dewy morning. It created an odd sort of serenity. Peaceful and untouched.
Apart from Rey. It seemed only she was brave, or foolish, enough to wander beyond the boundaries of her District. Most people probably didn't even know that this place existed. It had become a hunting ground of sorts for her, providing fresh equipment in every machine she searched. It was never in the best quality, but it was enough to keep her fed.
Gathering would have to be put on hold however, as today was the annual reaping.
Rey shouldered her bag and stared picking her way through the trees back towards the boundary of District 12. It was a nice day, she noted absently. Would have been the perfect day for experimenting with the various parts she scrounged that she didn't give to Plutt.
She had inevitably learnt a lot from the machines surrounding her, and their various parts. She would often challenge herself to fix something up, like an old holopad or outdated weaponry. It was the closest thing she had to a hobby. That and hunting, though she hardly ever had enough time. Besides, Plutt would be less than happy if his best scavenger suddenly found another source of food rendering him useless. He'd probably report her to the peacekeepers out of spite.
Speaking of, given the annual overflow of peacekeepers crawling around the District, Rey opted to take the slightly longer route to a portion of perimeter fence that was slightly shielded by an outcrop of buildings. Whilst she may have been small and quick enough to slip through her usual spot unnoticed, she couldn't afford a lashing if caught. It would mean starvation. Therefore, she stuck in the treeline and made her way round, listening to the distant hum of her people as they prepared their children.
Once she was safely back inside the fence, she went straight to Plutt's hut. He had made it abundantly clear the previous day that he wouldn't be open long, didn't want to risk peacekeepers sniffing about, and Rey would prefer a meal that evening.
She was choosing to be optimistic. Not that it was even optimism, just logic. She wouldn't be chosen.
'Just in time,' said Plutt, sneering down at her.
'Wouldn't want to miss out on the opportunity to see you,' she replied, fishing in her bag for the parts she had collected.
Plutt sneered, 'Watch it, wouldn't want the peacekeepers knowing about your little trips, would we?'
'As if you'd tell them.'
'I would if you piss me off enough. Now what have you brought me today?'
Rey carefully placed each of the three items she'd collected in front of him. They weren't the best she could have found, but given the limitations on time she'd opted for quantity over quality.
Plutt picked them up one at a time, turning them over in his grubby fingers. His scowl deepened with each one. 'What you've brought me isn't worth a slice of bread, but since I'm feeling generous, I'll give you two.'
'Thanks,' Rey muttered as she grabbed the bread off the counter before he had a chance to change his mind. She hated his guts in all honesty, the way that he belittled her and the permanent smell that oozed out of him. She hated that she was so reliant on him for her survival. What she'd given him wasn't amazing for definite, but it was more valuable than two slices of bread. Not that he was always so stingy, she remembered with longing when she'd found an intact central processing unit from within a computer. He'd given her two loaves of bread and half a leg of venison that had lasted her an entire week.
'I'll have better parts for you tomorrow,' she said as she turned to walk away. His sudden snort stopped her.
'So confident,' he said, 'reaping day today. How many times your name in?'
She stiffened, 'Ten times. Worth it for the Tesserae.'
'If you say so,' he shrugged, 'to me it just seems you're ten times as likely to be picked.'
'It's the same story for nearly every single other kid in this place,' she said, 'and I only get it for myself, they all get it for others as well. Sounds to me like my odds are good.'
He grinned, yellowed teeth glinting, 'Again, if you say so.'
'I know so,' she muttered back.
She had always hated this part. The crowd of people was getting increasingly oppressive, bustling into her from every side as she waited to be registered. Some of the younger kids were crying, most of them were sniffling. Everywhere she looked eyes were downcast and mouths were pressed sternly together. At least they were all cleaner than normal, scrubbed pink in preparation for the celebration.
'Next,' droned a woman and Rey stepped forward, offering her hand. As the needle bit into her finger she kept her gaze fixed just above the woman's severe bun. She was sixteen, that meant she only had to go through the reaping three more times. By the end of the day, it would only be two.
Having pressed her bloodied finger to the page, Rey made her way into the growing congregation of girls facing the stage. The area was roped off from the adults who were standing in sombre rows, each praying that their child would make it out unscathed. Rey glared at them.
There were also lots of peacekeepers littered about the place. Their white masks hid their faces until they became all but blank canvases behind the violent streak of their guns. It was funny, Rey thought, that the reaping was seen as a celebration.
A door opened from the building behind the stage and the mayor emerged followed by his wife and several other higher members of the District. A beat later, a man emerged who couldn't possibly be from anywhere except the Capitol.
He was old and carried himself very stiffly, as if there was an iron rod affixed to his back. He was also dressed ridiculously in a suit that was garishly golden, from the soles of his shoes right to the top of his funny domed hat.
Pompously, he cleared his throat and tapped the microphone.
'Welcome all the forty-ninth annual Hunger Games,' he said with a strange flourish of his hand, 'and may the force be ever in your favour.'
Rey shuffled her feet, picking at her nails. She had always hated this bit. The crowd she was encased in didn't help either, she could almost smell the stress leaking out of everybody. Her heart started to beat faster against her will, and her hands became clammy.
'My name is Caesar Threepio. Before we choose one brave boy and one lovely lady, I have the honour to show you a film made specially just for you. Make sure you pay attention now,' he said, turning to the screen behind him.
Rey's nerves were calmed somewhat by amusement. Every year they claimed the film was specially made, and every year they showed exactly the same one. The deep voice blaring from the speakers was so familiar that Rey could almost say she knew the droning off by heart.
'War, terrible war. Fifty-four years ago, the stagnant republic was defeated by our glorious Empire. It had grown weak and corrupt under its supposed benevolence, and so we destroyed it. Destroyed it so that you, our beloved citizens, may glory in the strength and unwavering integrity of our nation. That we may never forget the blood that was spilt as the Districts fought against our righteous armies, each shall offer up two tributes to fight to the death in a gladiatorial game. There, our victory can be relived and through you become eternal. The force will guide you as we do. It shall protect you as we do. It shall liberate you as we do. The force shall set you free.'
Threepio clapped his hands together and sighed longingly, 'What an inspiration to us all. But now we must move on to more exciting things. It is time to choose our tributes! And as usual, ladies first.'
Rey willed him to move faster as he stood before the glass bowl, his hand waving delicately above the folded paper. Like a snake he snatched one out, holding it high above his head as he sauntered back towards the microphone. Painfully slowly, he opened it and cleared his throat.
'Rey Jakku.'