A/N: So I just started the second to the last chapter of 'A Viking and The Frost' before I wrote this so I'm pretty closed to starting 'The Crippled Drake' Hope you guys enjoyed your holidays. I decided to make this official so yeah, it's for my entertainment. If you guys enjoy it that would be great. No haters please. We're free to write whateves we feel like. If you don't like it, hey, not my problem you clicked and started reading. Peace. Love you guys. If you read the book this chapter is of two and three, at least part of three, before they get to the train. No one new appears so I'll skip the casting.

The Lights

It's time for the drawing. Tooth crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. Soon after, she goes over to where the boys' names were and plucked one out.

"Ladies first,"

She opens the girl's slip first. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop.

"Emma Overland."

:::::

One time, when Jack was in a blind in a tree, waiting motionless for game to wander by, he dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on his back. It was as if the impact knocked every wisp of air from his lungs, and he laid there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. That's how the self-made albino feels now, trying to remember how to breathe, unable to speak, totally stunned as the name bounces around the inside of his skull. Someone is gripping him, a boy from the bakery, Snotlout, because Jack had started to fall, so he caught him.

There must have been some mistake. This can't be happening, Jack was practically hyperventilating. Emma was one slip of paper in thousands!

Her chances of being chosen so remote that Jack had not even bothered to worry about her.

Hadn't I done everything? Taken tesserae, refused to let Emma do the same? One slip. One slip in thousands.

The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn't mattered in the end.

Somewhere far away, the crowd is murmuring unhappily as they always do when twelve-year-olds gets chosen because no one thinks this is fair. Jack then sees his sister, the blood drained from her face, hands clenched in fists at her side, her eyes sparkling, walking with stiff, small steps up toward the stage, passing Jack, and he sees the back of her blouse had become untucked and hangs out over her skirt. It's this detail, the untucked blouse forming a ducktail, that brings Jack back to himself.

"Emma!" The strangled cry comes out of his throat, and his muscles begin to move again. "Emma!"

He didn't need to shove through the crowd. The other kids make way immediately allowing Jack a straight path to the stage, who didn't catch Jamie's own look of disbelief. Guardians block Jack's path initially but the boy ducked and rushed over to his sister. With one sweep of his arm, he pushes her behind him.

"I volunteer!" He gasped out. "I volunteer as Light!"

There's some confusion on the stage. District 12 hasn't had a volunteer in decades, literally in forever, and the protocol has become rusty. The rule is that once a Light's name has been pulled from the ball, another eligible boy, if a boy's name has been read, or a girl, if a girl's name has been read, can step forward to take his or her place. In some districts, in which winning the reaping is such a great honor, people are eager to risk their lives, the volunteering is complicated. But in District 12, where the word Light is pretty much synonymous with the word Corpse, volunteers are all but extinct.

"Uhm," Tooth started. "But I believe there's a small matter of you being a boy. Unless you're perhaps related to her in some way, and since you look the right age, maybe..." she trails off, unsure herself.

That was the exception to the rule. If a family member of an eligible age wishes to volunteer for a younger, gender aside, it was permitted. Jack squared his shoulders, ignoring Emma's cry.

"I'm her older brother. I can take her place! And I freakin' will!"

Emma is screaming hysterically behind him, she's wrapped her skinny arms around him like a vice. "No, Jack! No! You can't go!"

"Emma, let go," Jack said harshly, because this is upsetting him. He was already on the verge of tears, a bit freaked out himself. Everyone will make note of his tears, and he'll be marked as an easy target. A weakling, especially for a boy. I will give no one that satisfaction. "Let go!"

The Overland boy felt someone pulling Emma back, and he was ready to smack whoever if it was a Guardian, but when Jack turns he sees Jamie lifting Emma off the ground and she's thrashing in his arms. "Up you go, Jack Frost." He said, in a voice he's fighting to keep steady, and then he carries Emma off towards Mrs. Overland.

Jack steels himself and climb the steps.

"Well now, all right." Tooth smiles encouragingly, taking Jack's arm and pulling him beside her on stage. "That was rather gallant... Now come on, you can get through this." She said, lowering her voice at the last part as she felt the albino's shoulder shook a bit, trying not to let anyone else in on it. "What's your name, dear?"

Jack swallows hard. "Jackson Overland." He said.

"You have lovely teeth, and an even lovelier sister." Tooth said softy. "She's definitely worth this." Jack nodded, agreeing a hundred percent. She continued, "Ladies and gentlemen, the first Light volunteer of District Twelve, Jackson Overland!"

To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps. Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring. Possibly they know Jack from the Hob, or his father, or have encountered Emma, who no one can help loving. So instead of acknowledging applause, Jack stands there, unmoved, while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage—

Silence.

Which says they do not agree.

They do not condone.

All of this is wrong.

Then something unexpected happens. At least, Jack doesn't expect it, because he didn't think of District 12 as a place that cared about him. But a shift has occurred since he stepped up to take Emma's place, and now it seems he has become someone precious. At first one, then another, then almost every member of the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to Jack. It is an old and rarely used gesture of their district, occasionally seen at funerals. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone loved.

Now Jack was truly in danger of crying, after laying low and trying to remain unseen, he gets so much more than mere acknowledgments. Luckily for Jack, Aster chooses this time to come staggering across the stage to congratulate him.

"Well, you're a racking showpony, aren't ya?" He throws an arm around Jack's shoulders. He was stronger than he looked. "A little brumby, aye mate? Lots of... Spunk!" He walked off, flinging his arms in the air. "More than you!" He points at the camera and trudged off stage. "I've done my bit here, carry on without me!"

Jack was grateful, with every camera trained on Aster, he had enough time to release the small, choked sound in his throat and compose himself. He puts his hands behind his back and stare into the distance. He can see the hills he climbed this morning with Jamie. For a moment, he yearns for something... The idea of leaving the district, making their way in the woods, but he knew he had been right about not running off.

Because who else would have volunteered for Emma?

Tooth gets the ball rolling again. "All right, proceeding to the next Light, shall we?"

She unrolls the slip she got out of boys' glass, because she already plucked it out. It wouldn't do if she returned it and just picked out from the girls' glass again, there was a rule against that, but no rule against having same gender Lights. Jack didn't even have time to wish for Jamie's safety when Tooth's reading the name,

"Hamish Haddock."

Hamish Haddock!

Oh, no, Jack thinks. Not him!

He recognized this name, although he never spoken directly to its owner. Hamish Haddock. The albino teen watches the second Light makes his way towards the stage. Petite, scrawny build, auburn brown hair that falls in waves over his forehead. The shock of the moment is registering on his face, one can see his struggle to remain emotionless, but his green eyes show alarm the Overland boy have seen so often in prey. So Jack might've been dishonest, thinking that Jamie was the only guy he could go for. Because he had always been interested with Hamish, a.k.a Hiccup, for quite sometime. But this was so much more than some infatuation crush-candidate fascination thing.

So much more than that.

The odds were definitely not in his favor today.

Why him? Jack thinks. He tries to convince himself that it didn't matter. Hamish Haddock and Jackson Overland weren't friends, not for a long shot. Far from neighbors. They pass by each other in hallways at school, sure, but their real interaction happened years ago. One of them must have forgotten about it, but it sure wasn't Jack. And he knows he never will.

It was during the worst time. Mr. Overland had been killed in the mine accident three months earlier in the bitterest January anyone could remember. The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit Jack out of nowhere, doubling him over, racking his body with sobs.

Where are you? He would cry out in his mind. Where have you gone? Of course, there was never any answer.

The district had given Jack a small amount of money as compensation for his death along with the medal of valor since he was the oldest child. Compensation, enough to cover one month of grieving at which Mrs. Overland would be expected to get a job. Only she didn't, she didn't do anything but sit propped up in a chair or, more often, huddled under the blanket on her bed, eyes fixed on some point in the distance. Once in a while, she'd stir, get up as if moved by some urgent purpose, only to then collapse back into stillness.

No amount of pleading from Emma seemed to affect her.

Jack was terrified.

Now that his mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at that time, all Jack knew was that he had lost not only a father but a mother as well. At Eleven years old with Emma just six, he took over as head of the family. There was no choice. He bought food at the market and cooked it as best as he could and tried to keep his sister and himself looking presentable. Because if it became known that Mrs. Overland could no longer care for them, the district would have taken them away from her and place them in a community home.

Jack had grown up seeing those home kids at school. The sadness, the marks of angry hands on their faces, the hopelessness that curled their shoulders forward. He could never let that happen to Emma. Sweet, tiny Emma who would cry before Jack cried, before she even knew the reason, who brushed and plaited their mother's hair before they left for school, who still polished Mr. Overland's shaving mirror every night because he'd hate the layer of frost that settled on everything in the Seam. The community home would crush her like a bug, so he kept their predicament a secret.

But the money ran out and they were slowly starving to death. There's no other way to put it. Jack kept telling himself if he could only hold out until September, just September 12th, he would turn twelve and be able to sign up for tesserae and get that precious grain and oil to feed them. Only there were still several weeks to go. They could well be dead by then.

Starvation's not an uncommon fate in District 12. Who hadn't seen the victims?

Older people who can't work.

Children from a family with too many to feed.

Those injured in the mines.

Straggling through the streets, and one day, someone would come upon them sitting motionless against a wall or lying in the meadow, hearing wails from a house, and the Guardians are called in to retrieve the body. Starvation is never the cause of death officially. It's always the flu, or exposure, or pneumonia. But that fools no one.

On the afternoon of the encounter with Hamish Haddock, the rain was falling in relentless icy sheets. Jack had been in town, trying to trade some threadbare old baby clothes of Emma's in the public market. But there were no takers. Although he had been to the Hob on several occasions with Mr. Overland, he was too frightened to venture into that rough, gritty place alone. The rain soaked through his father's cape-cloak thing, leaving Jack chilled to the bone. For three days, they'd had nothing but boiled water with some old dried mint leaves he'd found in the back of a cupboard. By the time the market closed, Jack was shaking so hard he dropped the bundle of baby clothes in a mud puddle. He didn't pick it up for fear he would keel over and be unable to regain his feet. Besides, no one wanted those clothes.

He couldn't go home. Because at home was Mrs. Overland with her dead eyes and Emma, with her hollow cheeks and cracked lips. Jack couldn't walk into that room with the smoky fire from the damp branches he had scavenged at the edge of the woods after the coal had run out, his hands empty of any hope.

Jack found himself stumbling along a muddy lane behind the shops that serve the wealthiest townspeople. The merchants live above their businesses, so he was essentially in their backyards. He remembers the outlines of garden beds not yet harvest ready, a goat or two in a pen, one sodden dog tied to a post, hunched defeated in the muck.

All forms of stealing are forbidden in District 12. Punishable by death. But it crossed Jack's mind that there might be something in the trash bins, and those were fair game. Perhaps a bone at the butcher's or rotted vegetables at the grocer's, something no one but the Overland family was desperate enough to eat.

Unfortunately, the bins had just been emptied.

When Jack passed the baker's, the smell of fresh bread was so overwhelming he felt dizzy. The ovens were in the back, and a golden glow spilled out the open kitchen door. He stood mesmerized by the heat and the luscious scent until the rain interfered, running its icy fingers down his back, forcing Jack back to life. He lifted the lid to the baker's trash bin and found it spotlessly, heartlessly bare.

Then dejectedly, he leaned against the tree.

Then, Jack noticed him. A boy with brown hair peering out from the porch. He'd seen him at school, a year before him, and the Overland boy had been interested in him enough to know his name. He must have been watching Jack, although he slowly made his way back in the bakery. There was then yelling of an argument between two of the younger boys that lived there, one of them adopted into the family from cousin to brother after another man by the name of Spitelout was killed at the same incident Mr. Overland died at. There was blaming for burnt bread.

Then, there was the realization that Jack had nothing to take home finally sinking in. His knees buckled and he slid down the tree trunk to its roots. It was too much. Jack was sick and weak and tired, oh, so tired.

Let them call the Guardians and take us to the community home, he thought. Or better yet, let me die right here in the rain.

There was a clatter in the bakery and Jack heard the door open after a sound of a blow. He vaguely wondered what was going on. Feet sloshed toward him through the mud and Jack thought, Maybe someone's coming to drive me away with a stick.

But that never happened. It was the boy. In his arms, he carried two large loaves of bread that must have fallen into the fire because the crusts were scorched black.

The cousin-brother yelled from the inside. "Feed it to the goats, you stupid fishbone! I slaved baking those breads now no one will buy then!" He complained.

The brunette rolled his eyes but didn't complain back. Sure, it was an exaggeration to say that he slaved over two loaves of bread, but he was right to complain for the waste of ingredients. But the brunette didn't really see it as a waste. He begun to tear off chunks from the burned parts, and made to stand in front of Jack. "Well, you'll probably take this either way whatever your parents say about talking and taking stuff from strangers. Still... I'm Hamish Haddock, so here." He offered a crooked smile and place the breads in between Jack's knees. "Help yourself."

Jack stared at him, dumbstruck. Then the front of the bakery bell rung and one of the adults from the baker called for the boy. The boy acknowledged Jack one more time, and the Overland boy noticed the red weal that stood out on his freckled cheek bone, that Jack later realized how he found those freckles cute when he stole glances at school days, weeks, and years later.

What had his cousin-brother hit him with?

Jack's parents never hit them. He couldn't even imagine it. Then, Hamish Haddock returned to the bakery. The Overland boy stared at the loaves in disbelief. They were fine, perfect really, except for the burned areas. But hey, nothing was completely perfect in this world anymore. And they were warm too, even warmer than that were Jack's cheeks from the gesture, and it was then that Hamish Haddock captured the Overland boy's heart, unbeknownst to the boy himself. Before anyone could witness what had happened or take the luxury goods from him, Jack shoved the loaves under his poncho and walked swiftly away. By the time he reached home, the loaves had cooled somewhat, but the insides were still warm. When Jack dropped them on the table, Emma's hands reached to tear off a chunk, but he made her sit, forced Mrs. Overland to join them at the table, and poured warm tea. Jack scraped off the black stuff and sliced the bread. They ate an entire loaf, slice by slice. It was hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts.

Jack put his clothes to dry at the fire, crawled into the bed, and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about the auburn boy that consumed his mind for the following days to come. It didn't occurred to him till the next day that the boy might have burned the bread on purpose. Might have dropped the loaves into the flames, knowing it meant being punished, and then delivered them to Jack. It would definitely explain the red weal on his cheek and the blow he heard, probably from his cousin-brother. He couldn't explain the boy's actions from anything but pure kindness. There was no pity in the smile, not that he saw, simply just intention to help out.

They ate slices of bread for breakfast and headed to school. It was now harvest time and leaves fell from the trees as Jack's birthday approached soon. Soft breezes, autumn leaves mixing with a few snow pile since there was snow no matter what time of the year, what season. At school, Jack passed the boy in the hall, his cheek swelled up and his eye had blackened. He was with the mayor's daughter, but they didn't really interact much with each other so it raised the Overland boy's hopes that there wasn't anything between them. He meant to thank him, but how would that look like? And would Hamish get more trouble if his parents found out he gave bread away to a stranger on purpose?

Their eyes met once and Jack blushed furiously, turning away. That's when something struck him as he noticed the leaves falling, some of them still looking green making their way towards autumn colors, and what the boy told him that night;

"Help yourself."

It was in those words and those leaves that Jack saw life and hope.

He was alive, he can help himself, despite the horror of the past days. Jack was now the one to be counted on for survival as soon as he turns twelve, and he'll start hunting because he doubted tesserae grain can keep them fed for long and he was never going to work at the mine that took his father and embraced this change in his life. He knew he could do it, and he will do it for his sister. Change was hard, but like the change of autumn leaves, the naked trees going through winter and yet manages a rebirth every time at the spring, like they do in other Districts... Change was good. Change had hope.

And he would never get a chance to discover this hope if he didn't live long enough for it.

To this day, Jack can never shake the connection between the boy, Hamish Haddock, and the bread that gave him hope, and the autumn leaves that reminded him that he was not doomed if he went with along with change. He wanted so badly to return the favor. Jack hated returning favors, but this was an exception.

But the opportunity never seemed to present itself. And now it never will. Because they were going to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death.

Exactly how am I supposed to work in a thank-you in there? Somehow it just won't seem sincere if I was trying to slit his throat.

He hadn't even worked his way to at least get to an acquaintance standing with him, and any chance to hit on him disappears before it even formed.

Well, there will be twenty-four of us. Odds are someone else will kill him before I do.

Of course, the odds have not been very dependable of late.

~o~

Gods, Hiccup thought, his eyes fixed on the stage where Tooth was introducing the first Light. He's so noble to do that...

The boy remembered this Jackson Overland years back one rainy day, and if he wasn't so socially awkward, they might've even been friends at one point. Then, Hiccup had to rethink that. They lived in different parts of town.

Still, that did not stop the brunette from admiring what Jackson had done. He didn't think such a selfless act existed anymore, not in this world in any case. Even those who do volunteer in other districts don't do it selflessly, they do it because they get glory out of it. Here, surviving was so much more important than that—

But apparently, for Jackson, his sister was far more important than either.

Sure, there was Snotlout, who didn't mind being the one taking up tesserae in behalf of the Haddock family, but he did that as a way of repaying them. Somewhat selfless, but also an act of conscience. Not that Hiccup wasn't grateful or anything, but it made him feel bad, useless.

He considered taking the place of Snotlout if ever he was called next, but wondered if he can even push through with it. He sure didn't have the guts Jackson had. And Snotlout probably had better chances out there than he did, assuming the other contenders had his level of intellect.

He didn't have much time to think of that more, however. Because Hiccup was snapped back to reality when the second Light's name was called—

"Hamish Haddock."

Hiccup's blood ran cold, his eyes widening like saucers. Did he really just hear his name being called out?

N-no way... Why... How... There were five... I had as much chance as Heather did...

He didn't realize how long he's been standing there till he was jostled by someone beside him and he saw a Guardian signaling for him to move. Still in a trance, Hiccup somehow manages to make his legs move and he walks out of the line and made his way towards the stage, still too stunned. All he knew was walking, and he was completely oblivious to everything going on around him. He didn't catch his mother crying hysterically in his father's arms. He didn't see his cousin-brother's shell-shocked expression and barely concealed shame, not having the guts to volunteer the way Jackson had. There was one thing Hiccup was not oblivious to, however.

Today was the first day of his last days.

Finally, the Haddock boy climbs steadily on the stage and takes his place on the other side of Tooth. She asks for volunteers but no one steps forward. Snotlout could've, but this is standard. Family devotion only goes so far for most people on reaping day. What Jackson did was the radical thing.

Tooth places both hands over Hiccup's shoulders, then cupped his one cheek. "Hang in there, sweetie, hang in there," she murmured softly.

Jackson and Hiccup was made to face each other and exchange handshakes. It was brief, but when Hiccup was pulling away, he had to tug a bit harder to break free from the Overland boy's grip, who didn't seem like he planned on letting go.

Jackson looks Hiccup right in the eyes and gives his hand what meant to be a reassuring squeeze.

Did he care?

The Mayor looks at Hiccup with a pained expression on his face. He doesn't know Hiccup, really, but there's faint recognition there. Hiccup is one of the boys who brings the strawberries, the boy his daughter might have spoken of on occasion.

Does he remember that?

The Mayor begins to read the long, dull Treaty of Treason as he does every year at this point—it's required—but no one's listening to a word. He finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason.

Then Guardians ushered them into the Justice Building as they turn back to the crowd and the anthem of Burgess plays.

Then, Hiccup remembers something important and turned around, trying to find any of his family. The Guardians stopped him, thinking he was trying to escape. Finally, Snotlout seems to snapped out of something and made to volunteer. But it was premature, no longer valid. But Hiccup didn't turn back for that.

"Toothless! Snotlout, bring Toothless in later!" The Haddock boy hollered desperately before the door closed in.

Whatever happened, he had to see Toothless one last time.

The anthem ends, the boys are taken into custody. Not that they were handcuffed or anything, but a group of Guardians marches them through the front door of the Justice building. Maybe Lights have tried to escape in the past. Hiccup have never seen that happen though. Then again, not that that said much about anything.

He never really paid attention to these things.

Once inside, he was conducted to a room and left alone. It's the richest place he has ever been in, with thick, deep carpets and a velvet couch and chairs. Hiccup can't help but run his fingers over the fabric repeatedly. It helps him calm down as he tries to prepare for the next hour.

The time allotted for the Lights to say good-bye to their loved ones. He could not afford to get upset, to leave this room with with puffy eyes and a red nose. Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station. But he had a feeling he wasn't going to go through with that. A feeling that was proven not a moment later. His parents came in and Valka immediately embrace her son, the tears haven't stopped since they started.

She couldn't accept the fact that she could possibly lose her precious child that she brought to this world and nursed. She kept him close and tousled his hair, just like she always does whenever she embraced him. Hiccup couldn't hold back his own tears Stoick comes over and wraps them both in his arms. He wasn't openly affectionate and usually showed his love for his son indirectly. But this was no time for that. So he planted a soft kiss on his son's forehead. For a few minutes, they say nothing.

Then, Hiccup looks over their shoulders. "Where's Snotlout?"

~o~

"You can't leave again."

Jack started by telling his mother and sister all the things they must remember to do, now that he was not there to do them for them. Emma was not to take any tesserae. They can get by, if they're careful, on selling Emma's goat milk and cheese and the small apothecary business Mrs. Overland runs for the people in the Seam. Jamie will get her the herbs she doesn't grow herself, but she must be very careful to describe them because he's not as familiar with them as Jack was. He'll also bring them game—Jamie and Jack made a pact about this a year or so ago—and will probably not ask for compensation but they should thank him with some kind of trade, like milk or medicine.

He didn't bother suggesting Emma learn to hunt. Jack tried to teach her a couple of times and it was disastrous. The woods terrified her and whenever he shot something she'd get teary and talk about how they might be able to heal it if they got it home soon enough. But she makes out well with her goat, so he concentrated on that.

When he was done with instruction about fuel, and trading and staying in school, Jack turn to his mother and grip her arm, hard. "Listen to me. Are you listening to me?" Mrs. Overland nods, alarmed by the intensity. "You can't leave again." He said.

Mrs. Overland's eyes find the floor. "I know. I won't. I couldn't help what—"

"Well, you have to help it this time. You can't black out and leave Emma on her own. There's no me now to keep you both alive. It doesn't matter what happens. Whatever you see on the screen. You have to promise me you'll fight through it!" Jack's voice risen to a shout.

In it is all the anger, all the fear he felt at her abandonment.

She pulls her arm from his grasp, moved to anger herself now. "I was ill. I could have treated myself if I'd had the medicine I have now."

That part about her being ill might be true. Jack had seen her bring back people suffering from immobilizing sadness since. Perhaps it is a sickness. Depression. But it's one they can't afford.

"Then take it. And take care of her!"

"It'll be all right, Jack." Said Emma, clasping his face in her hands. "But you have to take care, too. You're so skilled and brave. Maybe you can win."

"Maybe," Jack said, because he can hardly tell his mother to carry on if he'd already given up himself. Besides, it isn't in his nature to go down without a fight. Oh, there will be people like him, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins. "Then we'd be rich as Aster."

"I don't care if we're rich. I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really try?" Asks Emma.

"Really, really try. I swear it, believe me." He said. And he knows because of Emma he'll have to.

And then the Guardians is at the door signaling their time is up, and they're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all Jack was saying is, "I love you. I love you both." And they're saying it back and then the Guardians orders them out and the door closes.

Jack flops down on the velvet pillows as if this can block the whole thing out.

Someone else enters the room, and when Jack looks up, he's surprise to see one of the Haddock kids, Hamish's cousin-brother. For the life of him, Jack could not figure out why he came to see him. After all, the Overland boy would be trying to kill his brother soon. Of course, he was gonna avoid being the one to kill off Hamish as much as possible. So many reasons for Jack to not want that. Snotlout crosses his arms, glaring at him. He's a buff, broad shouldered guy with burn scars from years at the ovens and crafting tools lick sickles, awls, and the like for harvesting ice. The whole Haddock boys had it. Even Hami—

"Take care of Hiccup."

Jack blinked rapidly at the request. "Uhm, huh? Who?" He tilted his head. Who was the boy talking about? Who was Hiccup?

"My brother."

"Oh okay... Wait what?" He asked in shock. Didn't this guy know the rules of the games? And he just promised to Emma to win—

Snotlout huffed irritably. "Look, I know as much as anyone that Hiccup is probably the last person to win this thing. But do not let him go down without a fight! Don't let him die a gruesome death, kill him yourself if you have to... Okay, maybe not that." He took it back. "If you did, I'd kill you myself even if you did make it back."

"Erm," Jack coughed. "wasn't planning to..."

Snotlout sighed deeply. "I should've volunteered for him when I had the chance..." He shook his head. "This is my fault... Hiccup shouldn't have to go through this... It's my fault..."

It was a bad promise to make. The worse. Because things like promises are made to be as broken as the world is. But Jack couldn't help it.

"I'll look after him." And he meant it. This was his chance of repaying the favor.

Snotlout blinks at him, then turned his expression hard. "I'll hold you to that." Then just like that, he leaves.

Finally, Jamie is here and though they both know there will be nothing between them more than just a brotherly connection, when the brunette held his arms out Jack didn't hesitate to give him an embrace.

"Listen," He said. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a spear. That's your best chance."

"They don't always have spears," Jack said, thinking of the year there were only horribly spiked maces that the Lights had to bludgeon one another to death with.

"Then make one," Jamie counters. "Even a weak spear is better than no spear at all."

Jack had tried copying his father's spears with poor results. It's not that easy. Even he had to scrap his own work sometimes.

"I don't know if there will be wood."

Another year, they tossed everybody into a landscape of nothing but boulders and sand and scruffy bushes. He particularly hated that year. Many contestants were bitten by venomous snakes or went insane from thirst.

"There's almost always some woods," Jamie pointed out. "Since that year half of them died of cold. Not much entertainment in that."

It's true. One Nightmare Games was spent watching players freeze to death at night. They could hardly see them because they were just huddled up in balls and had no wood for fires or torches or anything. It was considered very anticlimactic in Berk, all those quiet, bloodless deaths. Since then, there's usually been wood to make fires.

"Yes, there's usually some."

"Jack, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know."

"It's not just hunting. They're armed. They think."

"So do you. And you've had more practice. Real practice. You know how to kill."

"Not people."

"How different can it be really? They'll be trying to kill you just as much as any lynx or bear does. But you never had problems taking them down."

The awful thing is that if Jack can forget they're people, it will be no different at all.

Jamie gave his best friend a long look and sighed deeply. "And Jack?" He gave Jack such a serious look, the boy was curious as to why. "I'm so sorry about Hamish."

Jack blinked rapidly once more. "Huh?"

"C'mon, I've seen how you look at him." Jamie rolled his eyes. "You obviously like him. It must suck, huh? First time you actually have a chance to speak to the guy, and it had to be because of this."

"Yeah, it freakin' sucks." Jack groaned. No point in hiding it, Jamie could read him like a book. "Like hell."

"Just another reason to despise the Nightmare Games."

The Guardians are back too soon and Jamie asks for more time but they're taking him away and Jack starts to panic. "Don't let them starve!"

"I won't! You know I won't! And Jack, win! Just win with all you've got, swear to it!"

And then he was gone, leaving Jack with another promise that he might not keep, whether he liked it or not.

~o~

"Hamish, you have to try and come home." Valka pleaded desperately then shook her head. "No, you don't try. You must, come home and I'll bake your homecoming cake myself! You're smart and fast, and you'll get sponsors! What's not to like about you?"

I can't win...

Valka must know that in her heart. The competition will be far beyond his abilities. Kids from wealthier districts, where winning is a huge honor, who've been trained their whole lives for this. Boys who are four to five times his size. Girls who know twenty ways to kill with a knife.

"What does sponsors have to do with this?" Hiccup ignored her pleas. He wasn't about to make broken promises or dampen up her hopes.

Before Valka or Stoick could answer, Guardians comes and they had to give their final good-byes. Valka gave him a quick embrace and kissed his forehead, cheeks, and all that. She was completely drained from crying and her tears run out. Stoick grasped his son's shoulders and squeezed them affectionately.

"If I could only take your place..."

"I know dad," Hiccup swallowed, getting emotional once more and teared up, because his father never openly expressed his love. And it had to be when he was at death's door. "I know. I love you both..."

Then they were ushered—more like dragged—out. Hiccup cried for a full minute.

Hiccup's next guest is unexpected. Heather walks straight to him, who beamed when he saw Toothless in her arms. She rushed back to the Bakery as soon as Hiccup was called, somehow avoiding detection, and went to get the pet. The cat immediately jumped to Hiccup's arms, purring and getting comfortable. Hiccup figured he'll have more difficulty parting with him more than he thought.

As if reading his thought, Heather said, "You can take him with you."

"What? You're kidding. That's not funny."

"No. Seriously." Heather smirked. "Guess the rumors are true, about you not really watching the games. If there were any, you can take a pet with you, of course you'll decide whether or not you'd take them to the arena with you or have them brought home by your mentor when it's time to enter the field. And one other thing," Then there's an urgency in her tone that surprises Hiccup. "They let you wear one thing from your district to the arena. One thing to remind you of home. Will you wear this?" She holds out the circular onyx pin that was on her dress earlier.

Hiccup hadn't paid much attention to it earlier, but now he sees that while the center piece was a dragon head, the circular borders formed the circle like wings.

"Your pin?" Hiccup blinked.

Wearing a token from his district is about the last thing on his mind. Ways he could die in the arena comes second after his family's pain of watching him humiliate their name in live TV.

"Here, I'll put it on your vest, all right?" Heather doesn't wait for an answer, she just leans in and fixes the dragon on the fur vest. "Promise you'll wear it into the arena, Hiccup," she pleaded. "Promise?"

Hiccup couldn't understand the request, but it was a promise he could manage. "Yes. Thanks, Heather." He offered a lopsided smile Heather gives him more. A kiss on the cheek. Then she made to leave, giving one more look to the blushing boy more from fluster than anything else.

"And somehow, I think you'd have an edge if Toothless did come with you in the arena. He kept you alive this long in your hunts," Heather smiled and Hiccup thinks that maybe she was his friend all along. "It was never just Snotlout."

"Ahem."

Heather looked out and saw the said person in front of her.

"You want to kill off the cat too?"

"Oh like you were ever really fond of him," Heather rolled her eyes before leaving.

Snotlout went in. Hiccup approached him awkwardly.

"Uhm, look Snotlout, I—"

Snotlout held him off. "Ba-ba-blah,I don't want to get mushy here. You got the cat for that," He countered. "Just... Fight hard, Hiccup."

"I never even fought, you tell me how I can even fight hard."

Snotlout grasped his shoulders and shook him hard. "I'M NOT LOSING A FAMILY AGAIN!" He screamed at the boy with the cat still in his arms, who was more than just surprised that even his brother could be affectionate. "If you die, you die. If you fight, you could win. You have to try! Try, for all those times I watched your back at the woods!"

Hiccup might have given a snarky remark, he could have teased his brother for being emotional. He could've clarified that Toothless was the one who watched his back. But he didn't.

"Thank you, Snotlout."

The beefier teen moved back to the door. "See you soon, bro." He rushed away.

Hiccup blinked, since this was the first time Snotlout ever acknowledge them being brothers. He had to smile. He looked down to Toothless, who cocked his head in wonder.

Hiccup chuckled. "Guess this day isn't so bad after all..."

A/N: I actually liked how this turned out. So sometimes Jack plays Peeta and Hiccup plays Katniss. But in general, they are who I say they are in the first chapter's casting. I really have no idea what age Hiccup is in Httyd2. So let's just think for this story, Jack's height is an average for his age (17 by the way) and Hiccup being sixteen is smaller than Jack or even Jamie had been at that age.