The Guardian Games
Chapter 10: For Those We Love So Dearly Part 1
Theme music played merrily in the background.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, good evening to you all! I'm Mike Wazowski, your master of ceremonies, and it is my pleasure and honour to welcome you to the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"
The Capitol streets were blocked up with spectators stands, all full of enthusiastic citizens, cheering and squealing their lungs outs.
"I'm sure all of you know how important and exciting these games are to all of us, such that even our revered President Lotso is gracing us with his presence tonight."
On cue, a spotlight fell onto the President's balcony as the venerable, sage gentlemen rose to greet his adoring subjects.
The presenter gave a wave in that direction before carrying on,"Tomorrow will be the games that we've dying for "- some sniggers in the crowds -"but first, I'm sure all of us are eager to learn more about this years' tributes. So who am I to keep you waiting? Ladies and Gentlemen, let that interviews begin!"
The crowds roared and pounded on tables as the theme music blared on, like a throng of cannibals, stamping and crowing for a kill.
She couldn't tell if she wanted to die of mortification or anger.
She decided that reacting according to the latter would serve her reputation better, so she stomped up to the boy huddled in the corner and kicked him in the shin.
"Ow!" He squeaked, rubbing his leg and glaring up at her.
"Get up, you idiot!" She hissed at him in a low voice. Some of the tributes waiting behind them where laughing, and that only made her madder. "What are you thinking sitting down in the middle of the queue like that?" She wondered if he had lost his wits or something. It was obviously unseemly behavior for a member of such a powerful district to be cowering in a corner. Grabbing his shoulder harshly, she yanked him to his feet.
"Hey, I was just tired of standing in line. I didn't mean it to-" he cut himself off when as he scanned her from head to toe, gawking.
Astrid's eyes narrowed to slits, demanding, "What?"
"Er... y-you look d-different," he stammered. Noting that the crease in her brow deepened, he added quickly, "It's a good different!"
"How?" She demanded, but her expression softened somewhat.
"You look more like a girl." She glanced down at her tight-fitting turquoise gown, then raised her brow at him threatening. He recoiled instantly. "Not that I've ever doubted your femininity! Er, I mean, your female superior-ness!"
He was acting weird again; shifting his arms up and down as he tried to explain himself, his face turning redder and redder each second. She turned her attention to the stage for a moment. Shen's interview was clearing up soon, which would that her own interview would come, and eventually, so would Hiccup's. Since time was running so short, she ignored the rest of his gabbling when she grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Hiccup," she snapped, silencing with him when her hard eyes meeting his terrified own, "when you go on stage, you need to stop being all of - this." She waved vaguely at him.
He appeared rather miffed by that."You just gestured to all of me."
"Not all of you exactly. Just most of you." He seemed even more confused by her amendment. Blowing her bangs back in annoyance, she tried to rephrase herself. "You know that weird way you act every time you think someone's gonna kill you?"
He paused to ponder, before remarking, "You mean like now?"
"Yes, exactly! You've got to stop that."
"There isn't an 'off' switch for this, you know," he muttered under his breath, but a glare from her shut his
up again. "Okay, then what should I do?"
"Be yourself."
He gaped at her, as if she had just asked him to wear a drag and dance a hula.
"You're a hiccup, Hiccup. This isn't District 2 anymore and the Capitol wants to be entertained. So go on, make fun of yourself! Use all that dry wit and clumsiness and sarcasm, for goodness sake."
Hiccup seemed quite surprised at how passionate her little speech was, and honestly, so was she. Hoping to cover up any concern she might have accidentally displayed, she added, "But don't fall flat your face, or kill MikeWazowski by accident. Our district has a reputation to keep up."
"Sure," he replied, but the goofy grin plastered on his face failed to convince her of his seriousness.
The crowds were cheering out now, so she assumed that Shen's time was over, meaning that hers was on. Shutting her eyes, she exhaled deeply.
"Hey," she heard the nasal voice behind her. Opening her eyes, she turned to face him. "I'd wish you good luck, but," he grinned awkwardly, "you don't really need it."
"Yeah, I don't." She beamed cockily in spite of herself. Without warning, she punched him hard in his shoulder.
"Ow! Seriously, can you people give this shoulder a break?" He complained, still cringing from the blow. "It needs healing time."
"That's for being such an idiot," she commented, ignoring his grumbles. Perhaps it was remorse for hitting him, she held her hand out to him."And that's for everything else. May odds be ever in your favour, Hiccup."
Slowly, he took her hand and shook it, his bony hand fitting too well in her own. "Yeah, but they're already in yours."
Whether it was just some sarcastic jab, or he had meant it sincerely, Astrid didn't have time to ask. Adjusting her jeweled head band one last time, she climbed up the stairs and took the stage.
"-well, Mr. Wazowski-"
"Just call me Mike, kid. Wazowski's such a pronunciation-killer sometimes."
"Well, Mike, if you think 'Wazowski' is hard name to live with, try mine for size. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. Yes, you heard me right."
The audience gasped in astonishment, and laughter exploded across the streets.
"You're joking!" The green-haired master of ceremonies exclaimed. Hiccup was sure that the presenter already knew this fact, since he kept tabs on tributes, but Mike was a good enough fellow that he'd play along to help.
"Mike, I kid you not, unfortunately," the scrawny boy sighed with a tragic air. "Can you imagine having to carry a name of that size - with all this?" He gestured to himself. The audience chuckled heartily.
He continued," They say 'if the helmet fits you, wear it,' but I'm already having issues in my clothes. Literally." He raised his arms, flapping his oversize sleeves back and forth to emphasize the point. "Don't talk to me about names."
By now, the audience was in an uproar, and for a full thirty seconds as the entire Capitol laughed at - no, with - this uncharacteristically hilarious District 2 tribute.
"Oh," cried the host, still chortling as he wiped the stray tear from his eye. "I guess itgoes without saying that it's not easy filling in your dad's shoes, hey?" He addressed the crowds, who all murmured in agreement. They knew Stoick the Vast and his massive reputation.
At the mention of his father, Hiccup's mind suddenly blacked-out. Any snarky commentary or any bad puns he could produce suddenly vanished when an overwhelming sense of dread and guilt flooded him.
"Hey, Hiccup, are you home?" Mike said to the boy. The boy blinked, jerked unwillingly back to reality. Mike probably had taken note of his side-track, so he reiterated the comment, "I was talking about following your father's footsteps. His very big footsteps." That addition earned some light snickers from the spectators.
Hiccup scrambled for something, but he kept drawing a blank. His palms were starting to sweat as he realized that the silence was dragging, and all the rapport he may have built tonight would disappear if he kept this up.
His mind returned to what Astrid had said. 'Stop looking at people like they're going to kill you.' That one he'd managed to maintain mostly. 'Make fun of yourself.' He'd done that several times, and it's work so far, but it was going to be forgotten unless he spun a new angle.
'Be yourself.' He suddenly knew what he needed to do, but it was going to be extremely painful. Still, it was the only thing he could think of tonight, and if he was going to die tomorrow, he should say at least once.
To be himself, he wasn't going to just be an insecure boy - he was going to be an insecure son.
His voice was parched and broken, "It's pretty hard, being son of the strongest, bravest man your District's ever known."
A hush resounded in the spectator stands as the crowds hung on his every word.
He could barely keep his face impassive as he carried on."Everyone's always expected me to be like my dad." He snorted distastefully at himself. "Not exactly working out." A little tittering from the crowds, but it was sympathy that was more quickly passed around.
"I doubt he'd ever said it, but I'd could always tell by how he acted around me. It couldn't have been easy after all"- he tried to shrug, but it ended more like slumping his shoulders - "having such a pathetic son."
So great was the stillness that even a pin drop could be heard. Mike gave him a pat on the back, before asking, "If let's say - only 'if' - you know you won't make it through the games, what would you tell your father?"
What he would say? - there were a million of unsaid words over the years that needed desperately to be communicated, but three minutes were running out, and this may be very last time he could say anything at all.
His voice was shaky, but he said it loud, "Dad," he swallowed nervously, "I know I never was the son you wanted, and I'm sorry that I've only ever disappointed you. I just want you to know that"- his throat was dry with fear, but he gulped it down - "I'll try, Dad, and I hope that this is one thing that I-I won't disappoint you about."
It sounded really weak, which is why he appreciated the presenter's addition next. Mike squeezed the boy's shoulder reassuringly, declaring firmly,"And try you will, Hiccup. Try you will." Jumping to his feet and guiding to the boy to his own, the presenter turned to crowds."Ladies and Gentlemen, Hiccup of District 2!"
The crowds applauded and cheered madly, but Hiccup couldn't take pleasure in his victory tonight. Not when tomorrow was so near.
"-Hiro- did I pronounce your name right?"
"You need to roll on the 'r' but besides that, it's fine."
"Alright, Hiro, what would you say is your biggest advantage in the game?"
"My expertise with electronics, duh. You give me anything with wires and I can promise you I'll can make you cry with it."
"I've a feeling you won't be finding much machinery down in the Arena, though."
Some chuckles.
"Oh, you'd be surprised at what one can dig up-"
She could almost hear her mother's voice. 'Take small steps - ladies don't go galloping around on stage. Sit with your legs together, for goodness sake! You are not sitting on a horse!"
It was uncomfortable, but Merida bore with it. Placing her feet together, she lay her hands on her lap, straightening out her back.
"So Merida," the strange, short green man on her left started talking, "how has your visit to the Capitol been?"
"It's quite alright." She could imagine her mother groaning at that; an answer like that was could kill all form of conversation instantly. So she added, "I love the food." She could slap herself for how stupid that sounded.
Mike didn't seem to think that, though. "Oh, really? What's your favorite dish so far?"
Trying to sound light-hearted, Merida jingled a false giggle. "Well, there are so many. I do like the sugar buns awfully, and the roast beef here's a quite a belter-"
"A belter?" The presenter asked, not understanding.
"Oh, some district slang," she hurriedly explained. "It means 'great' or 'awesome'." If her mother were here, she'd rant on and on about how slang was for the working class folk, and a lady needed to speak with diction and precision. Well her mother wasn't here now. Deciding that she might as well earn some popularity points, she got up and yelled, "The Capitol's a belter!"
The citizen's roared in approval to her statement, and she waved enthusiastically at them, garnering more hearty cheers.
"Well, Merida," Mike said, when she took her seat again, "I'd love to hear more about the food you love, or learn more charming District 5 slang. Nut time's a little short, and there some questions that we really like to ask."
"Well, fire away, Mike," she responded casually, kicking back her heels, leaning herself against the seat as she tucked her hands behind her head, possibly ruining the bun that her red curls were twisted in. Within twenty seconds, she had discarded the ladylike image, and in her head, she couldn't help but be amused by that.
"Well, Merida, " the green man began, "a lot of us here would very much like to know; why did you volunteer? That girl who got reaped wasn't some friend of yours, was she?"
"Oh, no," Merida answered readily. She had predicted this question and was prepared for it. "If you want my honest answer, I just wanted to be a heroine. I know it sounds silly"- she chuckled lightly along with Mike - "but I'd thought it was high time my district got themselves a victor." It was a very confident answer, and no doubt the career pack would take it as a challenge. She didn't mind; let them come.
"Well, with an amazing high score like 11, I have no doubt that you've got something special in store for us," Mike said, turning to her.
"Aye, I do." She smirked mysteriously, hoping that it would be enough to gain the audience's interest. "But that's a secret."
"Could you drop a hint? A teaser?"
The redhead shook her head, still grinning slyly.
"Aww, c'mon! We can't take the suspense, can we folks?" He called out to the audience. They hooted in agreement.
"Well," Merida pretended to consider, "all I can say is that, I'm strong, like my da'-"
"Fergus Dunbroch? The last victor from District 5?" That was added for the benefit of any audience who hadn't been following the games too closely.
"Aye, one and the same." Merida beamed at the mention of her father. "And I'm wiley and quick," - she recalled the night before the reaping - "like my mum."
A vision suddenly flashed through her mind; her father leaning back on his fur-covered chair, roaring his head off at every little thing she said, bellowing, "That's my lass!" Her brothers, even though they pretended to hate her, would probably have crafted out banners bearing her name. She could imagine them racing around, waving them madly while her mother told them to shush. She would be all prim and proper, complete with tea and cake. She'd remark something disapproving, but her eyes would be shining with slight amusement at her husband and sons' behavior, and when she watched her daughter-
Merida didn't know actually. Would she cry? Would she chortle? Would she smack her forehead and demand why in tarnation was her daughter resting her right ankle on her left knee?
Merida realized that she'd give anything just to hear her mother say any of those again.
"Dad, mum," she said suddenly. Her eyes turned from Mike Wazowski, from the crowds, to the lens of a nearby camera that was swerving around. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that the screens all focused on her face. "I'll make you proud, I promise -" solemnly, she made a cross sign over her heart,"-the way I'm proud to be your daughter." Without thinking, she kissed the three centre fingers of her left hand and held it out; a salutation of respect, for the ones who had raised her.
She heard a sob from the crowds, and spun startledly to the audience. Upon scrutiny, she noted that some hankies were being passed around in the stands, and even saw a tear in Mike's eye. "They couldn't be more proud, I'm sure," the little man told her, patting her hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen." He gestured to her to stand with him and she did. Taking her hand and raising it with his own, he announced, "Merida Dunbroch of District 5!"
The teary-eyed crowds screamed and waved. 'Remember to smile,' her mother's voice told her, so she did, beaming as she took her bow.
"Hey, Goldie."
She jumped from her seat. "Is it time?"
He gestured for to relax, shaking his head. "Still on District 5. You should come watch. The guy's gold."
"He's funny?" Rapunzel couldn't help feeling a bit of envy. She wished she could be funny, but she was too nervous for that. After watching the first four tributes, she decided to to hiding back in the studio, instead of joining the styling team and the escorts in the lounge. Perhaps it wasn't fair to compare herself with the Careers, but how everyone managed to make an angle for themselves, she didn't know. Gothel was a natural on stage, of course. She was clever and quick with quips. Elegant, witty and a tad rambunctious made her a memorable figure. Her district mate, Shen, surrounded himself with an aura of mystery and steeliness that Rapunzel didn't doubt the hard-nose Capitol folk appreciated. The District 2 girl was definitely striking both in appearance and presentation, with sharp answers and dark looks made her threatening yet appealing figure. Even her male counterpart, who seemed rather awkward and shy, actually ended up being quite a crowd stirrer - she felt like crying throughout the whole interview, first of laughter, then of sympathy.
Bruiser and Killer had already done up her dress and hair, and she knew the angle that she needed to play as; the gushing, excited valley girl who just loved everything about the Capitol. However, as time dragged by, she began to doubt her abilities in pulling off such a show.
"-actually, I think he's not really being funny on purpose," Flynn was saying, "It's more like he doesn't know what's going on."
He must have noted her trouble countenance, because his tone changed. "You okay, Blondie?"
"Honestly?" She squeezed herself on to the studio chair, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I'm terrified."
"Well, maybe try to have some mercy when throwing people of train carriages." That earned an unamused expression from both her and her chameleon. Clearing his throat, he asked again,"So, what's the matter?"
She sighed, looping back a strand of gold. "I don't think I can do this. What if I trip and fall? Or I say something stupid? Or they just laugh at me?" As she rattled on, the tall man just turned to the chameleon, who with a sad, shaking head, told him what he needed to know.
"Rapunzel," he interjected firmly. She paused, spinning towards him. "You're gonna do fine. Look," he grabbed a studio stool, drawing up to her, "when I was in your spot, I was freakin' out. But my mentor at that time - a bloke called Big Nose, I don't think you've met him - just told me stop whining and do it. And you know what happened?"
"Your interview flopped."
"Exactly!" Flynn cried. Then his face fell. "Wait, you know?"
"I kind of watched it yesterday, and then..." she trailed off, suddenly finding the floor extremely fascinating.
"Well, yeah," Flynn hurried to bridge the gap, "but the thing is, in the end I still won, because one; I already had dozens of sponsors, who, even after my embarrassing presentation, still supported me. Two; I had enough skills to get me through the Arena. I've already snagged your sponsors, and you have your cool hair. What does this tell you?"
Rapunzel pondered for a moment. "That my interview doesn't matter?"
"Now you've got!" Flynn thumped her heartily on the back. "Just go out there and have fun."
She was still rather skeptical, and extremely confused, reminding him, "I thought you wanted me to play up being the 'harmless git'."
"Well," he made a face, "that kind of went down the drain when you got a nine for your judging."
She blushed guiltily, muttering,"Oh, sorry."
"It's fine." He shrugged. He took one of her shaking hands, steadying it with his own. "Blondie, tonight might very well be the very last night to you ever have, and I think it's way more important that you have some fun than putting a fancy show."
She asked, with a giggle,"So, I should do something crazy?"
"No. You must do something crazy,"'he insisted with a grin. "Have the time of your life, and you'll give the Capitol something to remember."
It was only in the pause they realized how close their faces were. Rapunzel turned pink while Flynn hastily removed his hands from her own, flushing slightly as he did. "Err, well,-" he brushed back his hair in attempt to gloss over it, "-good luck." He rose to leave, but just as he was about to reach the door, he spun back. Rapunzel could sense he was debating with himself, before he finally said, "I know you watched my Games yesterday."
"Yeah," she confirmed it uneasily, her eyes downcast again.
She could feel his conflict as he stuttered out, "You know, if there is - if you still want - I can still seal an alliance with the District 1 girl."
"No." Her answer was immediate. Seeing his raised brow, she explained her answer, "I think I understand why you don't me to, so I won't."
"Okay." His tone was neutral, but Rapunzel could tell he was really relieved. "I was just afraid, you know, you'd think me as a hypocrite," he scoffed bitterly at himself. "I'm the furthest thing from the perfect mentor, y'know. I completely get it if you don't trust half the stuff I tell you."
"What? No," she contradicted out flat. "You're not perfect, but you're an amazing mentor, Flynn Rider, don't ever think otherwise." At a fit of impulse, she swung her arms around him, engulfing him in an embrace.
"Ha," was all she heard from him, but he sounded pleased, and he didn't pull away. A moment of silence later, he spoke again, but not quite what she had expected.
"Eugene."
She dropped her arms, drawing back. "What?"
He gave her a small smile. "My real name's Eugene Fitzherbert." He shrugged. "I guess someone might as well know."
She widened her eyes at that, wondering if it could be some joke, but Flynn-Eugene seemed too embarrassed for it to be anything but the truth.
Well, she supposed that that might be all the backstory she'd ever get from him. Since a good turn deserved another, she promptly answered,"My hair turns brown and stops growing when I cut it."
His reaction was instant. "What?"
Just then, the two stylists barged in. "Five minutes to stage time," Killer growled - it wasn't that he meant to be menacing. He just couldn't help his ferocious manner, Rapunzel had come to realise.
Leaving a confused Flynn-Eugene, she said to him as they dragged her off, "You'll be watching, right?"
He couldn't give her an answer because he was still completely blow away by her previous statement.
Turning to the reptile, he demanded incredulously, "Her hair turns what when what?"
The green creature only nodded smugly.
S/N:
This chapter is very dialogue heavy, but it can't be helped. It's interviews. Hope y'all don't mind.
So, Mike Wazowski for Caesar Flickerman! I decided to get around my post-2010 rule by reminding myself that Monster University came out in 2013, so by extension...
Did anyone catch the snippet of Frozen dialogue by Hiccup? There was a Lion King reference too.
So Flynn reveals his true identity to a random blonde kid that he had known for what, - five days? (In the movie he did it in half a day. hmmph.)
Up Next: Interviews Part 2
Man, does anyone realise how close the games are already? So exciting!
A/N:
Hi, back from vacation, but the thing is I wrote this entire chapter and next during vacation, so I hope next update is prompt enough.
Btw, to any fellow writers out there, how do you guys balance writing, work and social life? I think I'm not doing a very good job, honestly. Is there an update period that you guys are most okay with? Like once every week is okay?
I finally extremely amusing that the chapter I got the most reviews was followed by the chapter I got the least reviews for. That's actually kind of funny, and a nice deflator for my ego... But to reviewers, thank you! It's still nice to get these.
Mailbox:
SmilingStarcat: Thanks for your review! Yes, you already know too much, but I hope how I tackle this issue will blow your mind, in someway. It's gonna be quite complicated, and possibly quite hard to believe, but hopefully overall whatever I do will make sense. I'm going to kill some nice people, yes, but there're always ways to bring them back (no, I'm not going to revive the dead.) Hoped you like the interviews!
ElvisRules41: Haha! Flynn on drugs is plausible, but it'd be too distracting in the story. Besides, I needed to throw in the Tales of Flynnigan Rider at some point. Initially, I was going to make Rapunzel find the book immediately, but why pass on an angsty moment?
I haven't read the Httyd books, but I have read up some on it, and lots of Httyd fanfics have stuff referencing to it, so I'll be using some book refs (e.g. in chap 4, I mention that Spitelout was Hiccup's uncle, but this was never mentioned in films). I'm also going to reference to lots of original material, like Rotg books, The original Snow Queen, and even the Big Hero 6 comics. The focus material, however, are still the films.
Yeah, Pitch being fair is sort of weird, but don't worry, he's just doing it to annoy Lotso.
Next chapter is coming soon! I just need to edit language and grammar.
See ya folks!
