AUTHOR's NOTE: First of all, I would like to thank my first and only reviewer, Rackshata. Thank you!

The Representative Tributes/Tributes of District 1-12: UPDATED according to the last chapter's declared deaths!

District 1: Percy Jackson & the Olympians – Percy; Annabeth

District 2: Lorien Legacies – Maren (Six)

District 3: Mortal Instruments – Clary

District 4: Inheritance – Arya

District 5: Lord of the Rings – Legolas

District 6: Divergent – Four

District 7: Twilight – Edward

District 8: Unfortunate Events – Violet

District 9: Harry Potter – Harry; Hermione

District 10: Maze Runner – Thomas; Teresa

District 11: Narnia – Peter

District 12: Hunger Games – Peeta; Katniss

CHAPTER 9: Perspective

Arya Dröttningu from Inheritance Cycle

Eragon's face flashed on the screen. His face was mild as if he was fine and well, as if he wasn't dead.

The hologram shut off and the light which had wounded the starry night sky vanished. The announcement of the deaths was finished. It was declared – Susan and Eragon were dead.

Arya stared still on the sky. Her eyes were fixed on the region where the screen had appeared. Even though her green eyes were open, her mind was travelling and thinking afar. Eragon, the boy who had saved her from the hands of Durza, the rider of the blue dragon, Saphira, the hope of Alagaësia, was dead.

Finally, the she-elf closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, calming herself. She couldn't help but grip her own hands. 'Even in the real world, humans are terribly flaw makers, idiots, and selfish.' She couldn't understand the purpose. She couldn't comprehend anything. One thing she was sure of was the instinct to survive.

Arya opened her eyes and found her uneven breathing. Eragon was a great deal of lost.

Shaking her head, Arya blinked and activated her senses. She had been swayed by her thoughts and had lost her guard too. She hadn't even noticed the other presence of a representative tribute until then.

Arya's eyes widened, sensing someone was somewhere near her. She was about to turn when that someone softly, almost soundlessly, landed behind her. She felt him point something against her back. She guessed out it was a blade.

"Don't move. I only want you to listen to me…" the speaker's voice was soft. His mouth was an inch from her ear.

"Listen?" Arya asked, smirking while trying her best to look behind and determine the man. "I don't think so." She wasn't in the right mood to listen though. Quickly, she reached for her elbow and aimed for the man's stomach. The man had predicted the move and took a step back. His blade turned too far from her. She moved swiftly and turned to look at the man while taking long leaps away from him. She had escaped safely.

The man wasn't a man after all. He was a fellow elf with shining light-colored hair and striking blue eyes. Like what she had predicted, he was holding long knives. He was a bit startled by her escape. Arya saw him incline his head a little bit and furrow his brows. "Did I misspeak my intentions?"

"No," Arya replied, stretching her arms. "It's just your knife and you, being my enemy." She unsheathed her sword and activated her Container – the Container which wasn't on her back anymore. 'What?!' she mentally exclaimed, panicking about the tube's absence. There was no other common sense. The elf had stolen it. She shot him a glare. In spite of this, she caught him smiling slightly.

The male elf put the glowing Container on his back along with his quiver. "I have to," he explained. Arya's glare intensified more. He continued, inclining his head to introduce himself formally, "Legolas Thranduillon of the Woodland Realm. I say this again, elleth, I only want you to listen." But, Arya wasn't listening, it seemed. His act just triggered the fire within the elf maiden. Arya was somewhat offended. How come she never felt him unfastening her Container from her?

She positioned her sword horizontally in front, drawing her fighting stunt. She was aching to give the other book elf some of her blows.

Legolas set his twin knives in front as well, "It looks like I have no choice after all. We can talk about this without the clash of our swords, elleth." Of course, Arya unheeded him and immediately attacked.

With two long steps, the twin knives of the Mirkwood elf and the sword of the Ellesmera princess met and produced sparks against the dimness of the night. Afterwards, the swift and numerous attacks from the both of them came consecutively, attempting to disable each other defenses. But neither one of them gave up. They were equally fast and their senses were heightening each other.

Narrowing her eyes due to her irritation, Arya pulled and turned away from her counterpart, only to attack once again and to slash Legolas's head. She did so but failed at the end. The male elf had managed to avoid it. However, she had cut a small group of his hair.

Legolas 'Greenleaf' from Lord of the Rings

The fight ceased temporarily. It gave Legolas a second to briefly check the condition of his blonde hair. Thankfully, the attack had only caused a small cut at the end of his hair – not really a thing to less his appearance. Even so, he felt somewhat annoyed and challenged.

Legolas took a deep breath and reset his blades. He took a single step and jumped high to give the she-elf a stronger hit she deserved.

Arya Dröttningu from Inheritance Cycle

Again, their swords clashed. Feeling the intense force that Legolas's had put into his swords, Arya stepped back. Legolas was getting serious. Maybe, it was because of his hair. Not that it mattered, Arya equaled his strong blows. But, it seemed he was quicker than the first.

There was only a second interval between Legolas's attacks. After that, all that Arya could see were the bright sides of his blades. Then, on his particular strong attack, she unwillingly unhanded the hilt of her sword. The sword flew away from her reach. She had nothing left with her but her bow. Worse, she had no time to set it and point an arrow to the male elf in front.

Breathing hard, Legolas's swiftly pointed a single blade to Arya, just to be sure that she wouldn't manage to kill him while making a statement, "Hear me, I want – "

Of course, Arya would never give up. She took a step away from his knife and rapidly reached for her feet and hit Legolas's knee. Again, the other book elf was startled. Arya took that chance to raise her fist and aim for his pale face.

Legolas 'Greenleaf' from Lord of the Rings

He had never encountered such very determined female elf in his life before. Arya's kick was strong, yes. He hadn't expected that from her. The unpredicted punch was another thing as well. That particular blow was solid and painful. He even heard his nose break. Once more, he took long leaps away from her and checked his nose. Blood. There was blood running from it. Since when did he last experience that? Somehow, he felt quite offended. Convincing the female elf was harder than what he had thought.

Legolas wiped the blood from his nose and sheathed his knives behind. It only meant nothing but challenge.

Arya Dröttningu from Inheritance Cycle

He sheathed his knives. That act only made Arya raise an eyebrow. She alarmingly watched Legolas condition himself as if he was preparing himself to a hand to hand combat.

Arya couldn't understand his actions. Was it pride? Was it arrogance? Legolas had a clear advantage against her who was unarmed. But, he sheathed his blades and was planning to fight her with his bare hands. Weird. He was confusingly weird. Ignoring this, Arya set her position as well.

Fighting with hands wasn't her expertise. It was barbaric and improper for her kind. But, she had no choice, hadn't she? Arya ran towards him. But not a second after that, she found Legolas glide smoothly to her right side and capture her hands with his. He set them behind her. He pushed her onto the ground and placed his knee on her back, pinning her on the dirt. Her face was on the soil. It was a very uncomfortable position for a princess like her. It was a shame. Arya hadn't seen it coming.

"Get off me!" she shouted, knowing that Legolas was on top, behind her.

"You, elleth, are very fortunate that I am not the one I was before," he said. He was so near Arya could feel his warm breathes against her earlobe. She continued on struggling but she was never successful. His full weight was on her. "Hear me," he continued.

"And why should I?" she retorted, restoring her calmness and dignity.

Legolas paused for a second. He was thinking. Then, he finally answered, "As a favor for saving your life, that, you may consider."

Recognizing the long arrow which had hit the Loric the last time they fought, Arya snapped back, "I didn't need your pity…" her words were trapped between her teeth. Her pride was still high.

The male elf withdrew a smile, "Then, I had mistaken the scene, indeed. I saw the Loric reappeared from thin air, unbelievably – nearly unrealistic. She was near to kill you, I think."

"ENOUGH!" Arya shut her eyes, just to compose herself. She was never into showing her emotions but on that moment, she was so near to her limit. She was finding the other book elf very irritating.

"Hear, Arya. I only want a little of your time to talk to you, nothing more nothing less."

"Talk," she permitted.

"I cannot by now." Arya was full. She couldn't really understand him. He wanted to talk but he couldn't? She tried to show him her glare. Legolas continued, "I will let you free from this but give your words beforehand." Silence. "Arya…"

"What words?" She knew what he was talking about though. The Ancient Language.

"That you will lend the rightful ear, consider my words, and try not to kill me after…" he paused. "…because I, for once, will not."

Arya deeply thought, considering his offer, then, "Eka weohnata," she promised. He wasn't doing anything still. She realized he couldn't understand her words. "That means 'I will', Legolas."

By that, Legolas moved from her and stood up. He offered his hand to help her stand but she declined. Arya brushed the dirt off from her clothes and face and straightened her posture as if she had never been in such position awhile ago.

"My apology for that," Legolas uttered.

Arya ignored his words but managed to scan his appearance. Legolas was massaging his hands which were burning red. She smiled inwardly. At least, she had given him a hard time to hold her that long. She was amazingly strong and it looked like he had given his all to keep her on the ground. "Start." She was getting impatient.

Legolas shortly smiled and unfastened the Container from his back. He held it with both hands. "I need you to use this…" Arya was puzzled. Legolas looked into her eyes. He gave her a meaningful stare. He continued, "Can you?"

For she had completely understood the message, Arya reached for her Container with Legolas's hands still on it. "This will be unpleasant to feel," she warned.

Taking a deep breathe, he said, "I am prepared."

Focusing, Arya reached for his mind. After a second or so, she had entered his consciousness successfully. Legolas flinched for a moment. His breathes became uneven. He closed his eyes and reopened it after composing himself.

"I have warned you enough," she started, talking to him mentally.

"This is a wonderful experience indeed," he replied, smiling slightly.

"What is it? Mind to talk faster? You are consuming the energy of my Container."

"I understand. There is a reason why I want this conversation to be secretive. They have ears and eyes as far as I know and that is something more unpleasant than you entering my mind."

Arya looked around for a moment and saw, with her elven eyes, the ones Legolas were talking about. Little things that she had never known and had never seen in her world were spying on them. Those have the ability to know and read the littlest of their action – even mouth reading, Arya presumed. "I know," she replied.

"I am here for I have something to offer you and understand, Arya," he paused, "This entire thing is wrong." Arya kept on listening. "We are seeing this whole thing, this game, from a wrong perspective. We were made as the people of light. We were made to do the right thing and clearly, killing each other, innocence particularly, is evil – far from what we believe in."

"Speak directly to the point."

"Know thy enemy. We are not the enemy. It is the one who had put us into this..."

Arya's brows knitted, "Are you saying that we must work hand and hand and defy the Capitol?" Legolas nodded. He was insane. "THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE! Do you really think that the others will listen to you? Not all of them will approach you the same way as I did. Remember, I fought you? Not all the time you will succeed defeating your opponent."

"Faith I have."

"And what is your plan? How can we escape and defeat them? And what about our books?"

"I will find a way in which more than one of us will be able to return to our books."

"And what kind of way is that?"

"There will be. I believe it." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Only I need help to make it possible."

Arya looked at him intensely, trying to understand his silliness. With narrowed eyes, she said, "Your faith will kill you."

Legolas sighed and massaged his temple, "Arya, have they blinded you enough to not see that this game would only lead us to nothing? After winning this, will we be satisfied? Will everything be back to normal? That is more impossible than the one I am offering you."

Arya knew he was right but she answered instead, "There is no other way but to fight."

"THAT'S SELFISHNESS!" Legolas yelled out that surprised the both of them.

Legolas 'Greenleaf' from Lord of the Rings

"THAT'S SELFISHNESS!"

The Mirkwood prince hadn't also expected that he would release such emotion in front of her. Maybe the game was affecting him deep inside as well.

Legolas's eyes shifted to the sky to recollect and calm himself. Stars were always beautiful and peaceful. He stared at them, hoping that they would share their peace with his mind. Turning back to Arya, he continued, "We elves of Middle Earth had gone through several – no, hundreds – of evil conquering. We had fought together and even fought each other. But one thing is always a lesson: You can live with darkness, adapt to this, but never let this darkness own you. I have decided to approach you for I know that an elf can see beyond of what is in front, that she will never let this foolishness define her…" he paused, "Would you have the same view and join me, Arya?" His tone was convincing, warm and kind.

Arya stayed still, looking at him with flat expression. Nothing.

Disappointed, Legolas sighed, "I understand," he said with his mouth. "N'i lû tôl, Arya. Galu."He released the Container, giving it back to the she-elf. He slightly bowed and turned his back, afterward, before walking away from her.

Arya Dröttningu from Inheritance Cycle

Arya was thinking. She knew that agreeing to him means risking everything – but what was everything to her? Eragon was dead and she knew that her life would never be the same.

Looking at Legolas's retreating back, Arya said, "I'll join you," though she shifted her eyes from him to place her Container with one less light on her back. Mental conversation had caused a light and also had exhausted her.

With that statement, Legolas pivoted back to her immediately, smiling. His hopeful eyes were shining against the light of the moon – thankful and grateful. "Ni 'lassui," he said, inclining his head.

Tobias 'Four' Eaton from Divergent

They were chasing her. The Force, leading by him, was chasing after her.

Four dragged his feet to its pace. Running like a hunger hunter wasn't in his slightest dream. He wondered why Thomas was so fast. He even wished to have his limbs so that he could reach the woman in a minute. Speaking of Thomas, he was there being supported by the real tribute, Peeta. He was wounded. The arrow of the hunter had injured him. The task was left to the rest of them.

Finally, she stopped. The woman stopped just at the edge of the waterfall. "You have nowhere else to run…" Four uttered, withdrawing his stoic face.

Her eyes travelled from him to the other members of the Force. Even though she was masking her face with a tough mask, he knew she was sickened, especially seeing her partner, Peeta, with him. Then, once more, she turned her eyes to Four. Her blonde hair waved against the wind of the arena.

Blonde hair. Katniss had dark hair.

And for that instance, Four knew he wasn't facing Katniss Everdeen anymore. He was facing the divergent, Beatrice Prior.

Tris was looking at him with pity on her eyes, as if she was frightened and scared. He saw her lips firm. A wound was on her lower lip. Then, Tobias noticed the other wounds on her body, the cuts and bruises. Most of them were bleeding and staining her dark clothes. Her face was pale and her eyes were covered with darkness – dull and lifeless.

Four was terrified. He advanced his feet to capture her with his arms but just like what a Dauntless would do, Tris turned and completely jumped from the edge.

After rushing to the edge, Four watched her figure descend quickly and coordinate with the gravity. The water splashed as Tris completely plunged into the water.

"TRIS!" he shouted. He wanted to go with her. He wanted to follow her to the water. Yes, and he was about to do what he was planning to do when a hand held his arm. Four quickly turned to her.

It was Annabeth.

"He's telling the truth, Four. We caught the wrong person. He can't lie with the Ancient Language," Annabeth said. Her voice was full of guilt.

Four blinked four times to absorb what she had just uttered. Wrong person? Just as then, he noticed a single tear was on his face. He must have cried seeing Tris dead.

Tobias looked around and saw the dead rider in front of him. Eragon's eyes were still open and his blood was rushing out of his middle. Four killed him. He killed him and he was the wrong person. Wrong person.

Four was horrified. He was stunned, helpless, as if his whole body had refused to perform any movements. Then, unexpectedly, Eragon rose from the ground and strangle Tobias with his both hands, nails digging into the Dauntless's flesh.

Four couldn't react. He couldn't help but see the lifeless eyes of the dragon rider, wide and unfocused, "SINCE WHEN DID YOU LEARN TO KILL INNOCENT PEOPLE LIKE ME, MARCUS!? SINCE WHEN, MARCUS?" Blood, from Eragon's mouth, spattered to Four's face as the rider shouted the words with unpleasant stresses onto the name 'Marcus'.

"No…" Four shook his head, struggling to escape the hands of Eragon. "I AM NOT, MARCUS! I AM FOUR EATON!" He encircled the wrists of the rider and brought out his best to free himself. Eragon's hands were stiff – stiff like a corpse – around his neck. Four couldn't escape his grip. He was losing his air.

Then, Eragon dragged him to somewhere, dark and narrow. Suddenly, Four's surroundings turned black and Eragon disappeared, engulfed by the darkness.

Four was free from the dragon rider's grasp but still, another fear was troubling him.

It was dark all over. He couldn't see anything but darkness. Four lifted his hand to scan his surroundings. He was in a tight space, for sure, as if he was inside a coffin – already buried. Tobias was panicking. He breathed deeply and tried to have serenity. All of a sudden, someone came behind him and set a blade before his neck.

Tobias had no idea how and why he could see the glint of the blade over the darkness of the space. But one thing was for certain, the blade was a shadowhunter's weapon.

"Wanna join me to hell?" Jace Lightwood asked him behind, moving his blade to cut Four's throat. A short tune of a sad flute echoed inside the space. Jace had successfully slit the Dauntless's throat. Then, black.

Beads of sweat were all over Four's face when he woke up that midnight. He gasped, desperate for air to enter his windpipe. He instinctively rose up from the ground and tried to reach for something as if he was looking for help, looking for someone to hold onto.

Realizing that he wasn't really in danger, Four refocused. It was just a dream – a nightmare. Tobias sat on his position and massaged the gap between his brows. He tried to forget about the dream. It was too dreadful for him – too many deaths and lost.

Completely calmed, Four looked upon the other members of the Force. They were half-asleep, of course, and luckily, with their half-trance, they hadn't notice his disturbed slumber in the slightest – which was carelessness as well for one must not fall asleep completely during the game.

However, Peter was far at the edge of their camp, leaning back on a tree, eyes were hidden behind his arms which were resting on his knees, folded legs.

The Narnian was crying.

Peter Pevensie. He was far, maybe better, from Peter Hayes in his book. He was brave, sometimes smart, and a respectable character. But, he was soft inside. Four could clearly see his weakness. Weakness – being so worried about the condition of his sister throughout the game, getting very close to a complete stranger and be his friend, losing his loving sister in a split and unpredictable second, killing one noble character unintentionally, and crying because of his all misfortunes.

The last part disgusted Four. He knew he must not feel it but the image of Peter crying silently was giving him a view of himself, like he was seeing himself losing everything too – Tris first, and then his character. He felt weak and pathetic.

"Stop it," Tobias said, gritting his teeth.

Peter heard him completely and turned his head to Four's direction. "What?" Peter retorted, brows meeting. His tone was hard and persistent.

"I said stop."

There was silence. Then, Peter said, "Mind your own," then, buried his head once again. Four was affronted that made the already knitted brows of the Dauntless be wrinkled more.

Maybe because Tobias was truly much wearied and depressed that he swiftly rose up and ran just to grab Peter's collar. He wanted to be satisfied. He wanted something or someone to put his anger and guilt onto just to release them out from his chest.

Peter wasn't surprised. He withdrew a hard expression and held Tobias's two wrists, giving his all strength to move his hands off from him.

"STOP IT!" Four madly screamed.

"No!" Peter shouted back and struggled hard. He squeezed the Dauntless's wrists and redirected his hands away from his collar. Temporarily, he succeeded. "WHAT?!" the king spat out. His tears on his cheeks were still in sight, drying on his skin.

"STOP BEING WEAK, PETER!"

Four saw Peter stiffen. He was taken aback. So, instead of shouting in return, the Narnian lifted his fist and punched Four's face. "WHY DO YOU CARE?!" he yelled back. His words were stumbling over the others. He sounded – they sounded crazy – in the middle of the night. "AND WHY WOULD I LISTEN TO YOU? YOU, HEARTLESS, SELFISH, RECK – "

Four punched Peter back, harder than the Narnian's. Peter was led to the ground with his bleeding mouth. "WE DO NOT NEED WEAK PEOPLE IN THE TEAM, PETER!" Tobias's eyes narrowed, belittling Peter's being.

Four wanted it. Four wanted to release his entire burden in his chest. He grabbed Peter once again and punched him hard on the face. And again. And again.

"STOOOOPPPP!" Someone behind Four rushed and pulled the Dauntless out in front of Peter. It was Peeta, then, followed by the demigod. The baker secured the Dauntless's arms to prevent him from attacking Peter.

"ARE YOU TWO CRAZY?!" Annabeth scolded, helping Peter to sit on the ground. Peter's face was bleeding. His right eyelid had puffed. "We have a deal! We are team. We aren't supposed to fight and kill one another. NOT NOW, IDIOT!" She glared at Four.

Four struggled to free himself from Peeta, but the baker was too strong for him. Four managed to yell back, "We are a team, Annabeth! We aren't supposed to fight each other for now. But, also, we aren't a team to support one weak person!" He paused, "Unhand me, Peeta!" The baker was till. "UNHAND ME!"

Peeta looked at Annabeth for approval. The demigod nodded. Just as then, Peeta withdrew his hands out of Tobias's arms.

Four continued, pointing his finger, which was stained with Peter's own blood, to the Narnian. "We don't need weak people here in the Force! If we happen to see you like that once again, WE," he looked at Annabeth and Peeta and to the two Gladers, who were already up and standing behind him, then, back to the glaring Peter, "We will kill you."

Four took a great deal of breath and turned his back from them. Soon, he vanished into the shadows of the forest to breathe some fresh air and also to return his sanity.

He wasn't in his self. He had done it once again. He was becoming the man he was too afraid to become.

Force (Four, Annabeth, Thomas, Teresa, Peter, Peeta)

"I DON'T CARE!" Peter was still shouting, mindlessly, even though Tobias was already out of their sight. "I REALLY DON'T CARE, FOUR! HELL! MY LIFE'S A LIVING HELL NOW. DYING IS NOT REALLY – "

Hearing this, Peeta dragged Peter's shoulder to look at him. "NO!" He was so worried for him. "You can't!"

Peter was surprised. 'Isn't that everyone wants? To less an opponent?' Then, Annabeth added, "Stop it, idiot! We know that you want to survive." She rolled her eyes.

Peter wanted to protest more but Annabeth was right. Yes, he wanted to win as well as the others. He wanted to come back to his book and meet Edmund and Lucy. He wanted to return to Narnia and even back to London. He wanted to return for Susan. He wanted to continue the game. And it was true: he was just being a fool yelling out words he really didn't mean to say.

Peter lowered his head and kept quiet. He started to feel the pain on his face. He hadn't felt it after he had received those hard punches. Not until he was relaxed. 'Damn!' he cursed.

After a minute of sickening silence, Annabeth stared at Peter's face, saying, "I'll try healing those wounds tomorrow." She gave him a squeeze on his shoulder. After that, she, Thomas, and Teresa returned to their spots and continued their half-sleep. Peeta, however, stayed and sat beside Peter.

"You know," Peeta started, gazing at the stars, which for him appeared and felt unrealistic. "Sometimes try to be logical and smart enough."

At that, Peter laughed shortly. He tried to smile but his face was aching. Wiping the blood on his lips by the back of his hand, the Narnian replied, "As if you're logical and smart enough, Peet. You're also a fool like me."

Silence.

Finally, Peeta replied, "I know. We are all fools playing this game. Idiot players for an idiotic game." – The very first and bravest statement of Peeta about the Capitol and the Hunger Games.

NOTES:

Elleth - female elf
Eka weohnata - I will
N'i lû tôl, Arya. Galu - Until then, Arya. Farewell.
Ni 'lassui - Thank you (lit. I am glad)

I don't know if IC magic users can use their mental powers to talk to a non-magic user. IC magic rules are quite confusing.

Comments/reviews 'may' save the character.

The pairings aren't official. It doesn't mean that I wrote them together, I ship them forever. No. It can be yes or no or something in between. Just like what I've said, you can oppose or approve. It depends on my mood and on your suggestions/reviews.