A/N: This chapter was written in large part by Hunhund, as I was plagued by a crippling writer's block. Next chapter, the Games begin, so I should have an easier time writing the bloodbath. Wait, what?

As the first week progressed Kristoff's abilities improved, and no matter where he dug the pickaxe in he found it easier and easier to wrench it free. Anna watched him, elated at his success and morose over her lack thereof. One week down, and she didn't have a specialty to her name.

Anna was witnessing Kristoff's attempt at one-handed wielding when a pained cry shot through the background hum of panting and steel on steel. She scrambled to investigate.

A few of the tributes were crowding around one of the stations, and between them were Kocoum and Pocahontas. The latter hugged herself tightly, while the former knelt next to her, trying to pry her hands away from her front. When Pocahontas finally relented, there was blood in her hands from an oozing wound below her ribcage.

Generally practice makes perfect, but sometimes it just hurts instead.

Kocoum shoved her hands back into place to stem the bleeding that he had caused. He stood abruptly, looking around the room with his arms open. "Can we get some help here? Somebody is hurt!"

The Officers scattered throughout the facility did not move.

Kocoum scoffed, kneeling to Pocahontas' side again.

It wasn't the first time that Anna had seen blood. Farmers cut themselves all the time, on tilling blades or simply on nature itself; and children were always prone to scrapes and bruises themselves. And oftentimes it was the wives and daughters, like Anna herself, that treated their minor injuries.

Maybe I'm not as ill-prepared for the games as I thought...

The gash was much more severe than Anna had ever dealt with before, but where others just stood and watched, hesitating, she unceremoniously pushed her way through them all to Pocahontas' side.

"I need gauze, thread, a needle...anything to stitch this!"

One by one the crowd dispersed to gather what she asked for or simply to give her and her patient space.

Olaf was there in the flurry, his small hands laden with cloths, and her fingertips brushed his palm when she retrieved it from him. He felt like ice. "Thanks, Olaf." Anna smiled at the younger boy as she carefully but firmly pressed them to Pocahontas' side.

Kocoum eventually returned with a complete suture kit for Anna to stitch the wound. Pocahontas flinched at the sudden invasion of the needle in her skin, and they both grimaced as Anna drew the thread across the wound, back and forth, closing the gap. One of them trembled at the final pass of the needle, but she was unsure of whom. She completed her handiwork with a wrap of gauze, and let Kocoum and her allies pull Pocahontas away to rest.

"Thank you, Anna," Kocoum said, a notable sincerity in his otherwise gruff voice. Other tributes clapped her on the shoulder as they passed.

"Way ta go, lass!"

"Good job, Anna!"

Anna was ecstatic; a little praise did wonders for the ego, and she was so pleased that she didn't even notice the blood drying on her fingers. Olaf took one of the remaining clean cloths and placed them over her hands, patting gently. Red blossomed on the white material. Kristoff stroked her back.

"Elsa! Did you see that? Anna fixed her right up!"

Her stupor broke, and Anna peered up at the approaching blonde. Where everyone else had been somewhat friendly, or grateful, Elsa wore the same hard expression as before. She gave a small shrug to her brother's prompt and gestured with a single extended hand for him to join her. He hesitated, his eyes apologetic when he glanced away from Anna, and stood to leave.

Anna's heart sank; not even Kristoff's soothing hand on her back could keep her spirits from falling. Despite all the praise and confidence instilled into her, Elsa's one nonchalant response sent her spiralling back into self-doubt. Why? Why does her opinion even matter to me?

She mused, and her heart sank further. Why do any of their opinions even matter? She surveyed the area; the tributes recommenced their practices, and even Pocahontas was returning to her feet, spear in hand. Olaf was perched in front of Elsa's favorite simulator.

All of them are going to die. Do they know that? Are they thinking that right now? When they thanked me, were they actually thinking about how and when they were going to kill me?

"Anna," Kristoff started, shaking her gently. "Let's go somewhere else. You can relax."

Olaf was twiddling his thumbs where he sat, swaying side to side. She couldn't imagine such a sweet boy, who invited her to eat with him and cleaned blood from her palms, planning a murder. Elsa, she could see, pinpointing everybody's weakness and devising just how to destroy them.

Olaf waved at Elsa in the simulator as she prepared for the holograms to begin spawning. Quickly, almost shyly, the blonde waved back. Anna's mind raced; maybe she couldn't see Elsa plotting murder after all. She couldn't tell, and she needed to know. She shrugged Kristoff off, determined.

"Maybe later," she said, leaving her companion behind. He stared after her, hurt and confused, but did not pursue. He knew better than to get in Anna's way when she was on a mission.

Elsa was ripping holographic arrows out of the air with her halberd, sometimes deflecting two at once. She moved so easily, effortlessly; Anna sat down next to Olaf with the same ease, feeling comfortable to be with him without even asking now.

"Olaf…do you really think that what I did was great?" she asked, knees pulled to her chest. She looked at him, her green eyes hopeful.

"Of course, Anna! You helped her!" He didn't even hesitate. His honesty was refreshing.

Anna's self-doubt filtered through. "…I can't help them when we're out there, though. What good is a talent I can't help them with? Save them with?"

"You shouldn't care. You shouldn't care about these people."

Anna startled. Elsa leaned against the simulator door, halberd in hand; she looked like she hardly broke a sweat. Her face was just as austere as before, and it made the hair on Anna's neck prickle. "How can you say that?" she shot back, her brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Easily." Elsa's answer was as fluid and quick as Olaf's, but colder, stinging. Anna was not convinced. How could they be such polar opposites?

"But…what about Olaf? What about your own brother?"

Elsa blinked and motioned as if she were taken aback; she stood straighter, pushing off from the door. "He's not your brother; he's not your concern."

"That doesn't mean I don't care about him." Anna narrowed her eyes at the imposing figure she was arguing with, refusing to back down. Elsa's commanding posture changed to one of defensiveness, and she drew in a breath before replying.

"You don't know us. You don't know him, and you don't know me."

"Well," Anna said, a bit more gently. She locked her eyes with Elsa's. "I want to get to know you."

Those tense shoulders sagged, as if defeated, and she looked away brusquely. "…you shouldn't," she mumbled softly. Neither Anna nor Olaf could hear. She didn't wait around to hear Anna speak more, ducking back into the door of the simulator. Her knuckles were white where she gripped her weapon.

"Has she always been like that, Olaf?"

"Like what?" Their fervent exchange seemed not to affect his mood.

"Like such a…an ice queen." Anna huffed, pressing her cheek against her knee. She held herself tighter.

Olaf chortled softly. "No, she wasn't. But since I got sick…"

Anna blinked and turned her head to face him. "Wait, what? What do you mean, sick?"

Olaf smiled sadly, but avoided answering her. "Since I got sick," he reiterated, "she hasn't had as much patience for the world."

Anna regarded him for a moment, the realization dawning on her. He had felt so cold earlier.

Just like Kristoff…

The second week was even more intense than the one before. The media had cameras introduced to the training arenas to capture every moment, every move, and every conversation. Tribute interactions became very limited, particularly between allies; they wouldn't want to spoil the fun for the Capitol people, after all.

The big brother presence made Elsa nervous, and all the more elusive. Kristoff on the other hand, used it to his advantage, showcasing himself aggressively to win over potential patronage from the investors.

"The better we look to them, the better our odds, Anna. Anything to help us succeed, I'll do!" he explained after dinner, the night before the infamous interviews that were to take place under the careful execution of Simba Leone. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was changing, or perhaps there were parts of him that she never knew before.

Or perhaps it was her that was changing.

"Sounds like Sevin is rubbing off on you." Anna teased, trying to lighten her own mood.

"Don't hate the player, hate the game." Kristoff chuckled, slipping his arm around her waist, something he had done so often and so much in all of their years together that it was a second nature. Anna didn't feel as comfortable and extracted herself from him, excusing herself to use the restroom to avoid having to face the fact that she didn't like the feel of his arm around her anymore.

She sighed as she looked herself in the mirror. Try as she might, splashing water on her face would not wake her from this hellish dream, and it did nothing to negate the feelings that swelled in her chest.

I do hate the game…

Anna's breakfast had barely been touched; they were sitting at the table with Sevin, discussing the interviews they would have to endure tonight. She would be finding herself back in the same dress she wore for the tribute introduction ceremony, and this was to be their last chance to sell themselves, the last chance for all the bets to be made.

"No offense, Anna dear, but this week you didn't really present yourself as being anything special during training!" Only the strange, tactless Capitol citizens could say such hurtful things without even a trace of venom, their naivety so profound.

"What about what she did for Pocahontas?" Kristoff immediately contended. "That was -"

"Not filmed." Sevin interrupted. "The cameras weren't rolling, so as far as anyone is concerned it didn't happen." She leaned back in her extravagant high backed chair. "If you want my advice, which you should, let's play the 'damsel in distress has a knight of shining armour' card. Young love, doomed romance…it's all so dramatic! So alluring!"

Anna felt her stomach turn with disgust; she hated the idea of being considered a "damsel in distress" or needing to be babied. She wasn't so dependent, such a burden back in the District. Kristoff's hand on hers snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Makes sense to me. What do you think, Anna?"

"Sure…we have nothing to lose." She scoffed, but subtly enough that Kristoff did not detect the irony laced within her tone.

"Excellent!" Sevin exclaimed. "Then we should rehearse for tonight. Come come, finish up!"

It was all a blur. The lights, the colours – too many colours, too many lights. Roaring, snickering, jeering and cheering. The audience was like a pack of hungry hyenas, cackling at the host of the 74th Annual Disney Games Coverage show. Simba Leone was an impressively tall man, dressed in garish yellow hues with citrine rhinestones dotted throughout the fabric of his suit. His hair had been over-teased into a thick mane of vermilion, and his teeth were extra pearlescent.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you, thank you so much for joining me tonight! We're going to meet and greet this year's tributes, have a little chat with them, and see what we have in store!"

The tributes were gathered in a haphazard line backstage, only a single velvet curtain separating them from the spotlight on the other side. Most stood in their respective pairs, others chatted with their allies, and some – District 8 – were absent entirely.

"But first, we have two special guests for you today! You might recognize them from the 72nd , and 73rd Hunger Games! Come out, Beast, and Mulan!"

From the opposite side of the stage where the tributes loitered, the curtain parted to reveal the two introduced individuals. Leading the way was slender Mulan, her luxurious black hair drawn up with ribbons, and behind her was Beast, an exceptionally tall and thick man with a pronounced jaw and deceptively delicate footfalls for his lumbering size. They were each glittering in their own respective costumes, reflecting like disco balls as the lights bounced off the various gems and jewels adorning their bodies.

Beast and Mulan were victors from the previous years. Anna had not seen Mulan's victory, but she had heard that the dark-haired woman had used a katana to slash her final opponent straight through the torso, literally slicing them in half. And the Beast, as they called him; Anna had watched the Beast devolve from Adam on the day of his Reaping, and into the creature that filed down his teeth into sharp points to rip the throats of the other tributes.

Anna could hardly believe that the two people on stage were victors: they seemed placid and content, wearing manicured smiles and reciting speeches that did nothing but praise the Games and President Disney. It made her stomach churn and twist; she couldn't decipher whether they were simply enacting their roles, or that they actually believed their own words.

A cacophony of applause rang throughout the theatre when the two victors left stage and exited through the velvet curtain where the tributes waited. As soon as the Beast was visible, Belle bolted from the lineup and ran at him, her reserved nature completely diminished and replaced with a frenzied look on her face. She threw herself at him, pounding on his broad chest with her fists.

"How could you say those things?" she cried, tears leaving streaks in her make-up. "What have they done to you? They've corrupted you, Adam!"

Beast made no move to stop her; he did not lift his arms, or even lower his gaze, simply staring blankly ahead, his eyes glazed over as if hypnotized. It was the Officers that finally rushed to his aid, peeling Belle away from him to let him pass. She struggled against them briefly, resigning to shouting when her attempts proved futile.

"Adam! Adam, please don't forget me! Don't forget who you were, and what we had! If I win, I'll come find you! You hear me? I love you, Adam; I'll come find you!" She sobbed as he disappeared beyond the doors.

Anna's heart seized as she watched the exchange. He hadn't even looked at her when she spoke; it was as if he was nothing but walking dead. Maybe there is no winning the Games, after all…

She must have vocalized her thoughts, because Mulan had stopped next to her, peering at her out of the corner of her eye. Anna swallowed hard and leaned closer to the dark-haired woman, speaking quietly. "What happened to him? Why did he act like that?"

Mulan shifted minutely, just enough that Anna could see the crinkle of a frown around her lips. "Did you ever have a doll growing up?"

Anna blinked, perplexed, but nodded.

There was only a whisper before Mulan hurried away. "It's not as much fun being the doll."

Anna stared after the dark woman for a moment, stunned; the more and more she learned of Games and the world of the Capitol, the more she cringed, the more she hated them and all they stood for, all the pain they caused. Her name hissed out of the speakers and drew her attention towards the stage. Simba was standing, ready to receive her.

"Anna! Come on out here!" He boomed. With an apprehensive sigh, she walked out onto the stage. The audience began their applause along with Simba as she looked out towards the crowd, their painted faces and eyes all on her.

"Ooof!" Anna tripped on the bottom of her dress when she was halfway to the chair; Simba's eyes widened and he roared with laughter, the audience joining in raucous chorus. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! This is so awkward, I mean not you're awkward, Simba, I'm awkward…" More laughter.

"Anna, Anna, Anna…how do you expect to win the Games when you can't even make it to a chair?" He chuckled as he sat, Anna also taking her seat.

"Well Simba, I'm going to kill them with comedy, apparently." Her wit was unintentional but she was thankful for it; at least her subconscious was skilled at something, even if the rest of her wasn't.

"Ah-hahah! I've never seen that weapon used before! Mind you, it's how I've won all of my awards." He gave the audience an exaggerated wink, causing a new cadence of laughter. "So tell me, Anna. What is your real strategy for winning this year's Games?"

Sevin's pre-constructed answers immediately came to the forefront of her mind. "I have my knight in shining armour to save me." She gritted her teeth, abhorring the façade regardless of how true it was.

"Oooh! You're speaking of Kristoff?"

"Yes." She replied simply. The audience cooed.

Simba raised his hands and flapped his wrists in a flamboyant attempt to quell the patrons. "Ah, ever the damsel, eh? Speaking of, he's up next! Thank you, Anna. And good luck out there."

Anna nodded and took her leave, grabbing at the skirt of her dress to be sure to not trip on the way out. As Kristoff entered the spotlight, he gave her a gleaming smile which she only half-heartedly reciprocated as she walked past him. Once beyond the velvet curtain, Elsa came into view. She was dressed in the magnificent crystalline dress from the opening ceremony; Anna could hardly pay attention to Kristoff's interview with Elsa so close to her, focusing on the way it hugged her curved form. Elsa as usual avoided engaging her in any way, wearing her trademark scowl.

"The knight in shining armour himself, Kristoff! With steady feet, no less! Tell me…is she always like that?"

"Ever since I met her." He smirked as he relaxed and mirrored Simba's sprawled posture within his own chair.

"Which was how long ago, exactly?"

"Seems like forever…" He trailed off wistfully. The audience murmured empathetically, and Simba's smile widened.

"Then tell me, Kristoff, did you volunteer for her then?"

He nodded as if he hadn't even given it a second thought. "I have to protect my love."

Anna heard that part, and was overcome with conflicting feelings of both adoration and guilt. The feelings of guilt intensified when she shifted her gaze back toward Elsa, but so did the feelings of adoration. Anna's cheeks flared with heat, and she began to wring her hands.

"My my my…young love. Well they do say that love conquers all! A round of applause for Kristoff, everyone!" The applause was thunderous as he exited the stage, joining Anna again. Elsa swept past them both; Kristoff swore he felt a chill.

"And now…the diamond in the rough, Elsa from District 8!"

Like a butterfly breaking free of its cocoon, Elsa transformed into a completely different person; the scowl she wore flipped into a radiant smile. She waved to the crowd, evoking compassion and support almost immediately. Simba took her hands and leaned in to kiss her cheek softly before they took their seats. She played her part perfectly.

"Simba, you look phenomenal!" The tone of her voice was gentle like a summer's breeze, no longer the harsh winter bite.

"And you! You look ravishing, Elsa. Does that dress still have the diamonds?"

"It does," she exclaimed.

"Can you show me?" He looked to the audience. "Do you want to see?" The audience cheered loudly, prompting Elsa to stand and approach the front of the stage.

"Are you ready?" She called to the fans. She stomped her foot, sending what seemed like hundreds of little diamonds cascading to the floor. With a quick twirl of her dress, another batch of stones rained over the front row. Several pairs of eyes widened with wonder at the display, and followed her every move as she returned to her chair.

Simba clapped gleefully, and then leaned forward in his seat. His hands stilled. "Now, Elsa…" His voice lowered. "How did you feel when your brother's name was drawn after yours?"

Anna's full attention was once again fixed upon Elsa. She noticed a slight hesitation in Elsa's eyes at the question, but the blonde remained composed.

"I felt sad at first, but afterwards I thought 'who better to protect him than me?'" The crowd responded with a mixture of cheer and more applause. Anna felt her chest tighten; that was one line that she was sure Elsa had not rehearsed beforehand.

"I wish I had a big sister who was that nice to me! Well Elsa, best of luck to you and your brother. Let's bring him out now! Olaf!"

When Elsa returned backstage, Anna was waiting. The rest of the tributes had already been whisked away by fanatical sponsors and reporters alike, and Olaf had just danced out into Simba's presence. Anna stepped in front of her, blocking her path of evasion. Elsa nearly snarled.

"Get out of my way, Anna."

"No." The redhead reached out, wrapping her hand over Elsa's bare shoulder. "I want to talk to you. I want to get to know you."

Elsa recoiled violently, shaking Anna's hand from her. "Go talk to your knight in shining armor," she all but spat, and stormed away with all the danger and beauty of a hurricane.

Anna let her go; she was too busy staring intensely at her hand, fixated on the lines of her palm as if her skin had miraculously turned green.

Elsa had felt so warm.