Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia OR The Hunger Games


It was a truly awful thing, being constantly torn between looking and looking away. The first hours of those sick, twisted games had been bloodier than some of the battles Edmund had faced during their reign, but Aslan willing, Peter had survived them.

Susan had forbidden Lucy to watch, but he got the sense that she'd managed to catch a few glimpses anyways. It was difficult to avoid, especially under the watchful eye of the age-worn attendants at the shabby orphanage. There were screens everywhere, and each one of them provided full-colour coverage of the massacre.

Edmund had a million questions, but he feared the response he would receive if he asked any of them. What horrible thing had happened here, in this land called Panem, to lead to such totalitarianism? Who had devised these sadistic games? But more importantly, he spent much of his time pondering the one that he knew only one could answer: why had Aslan sent them here? Why Peter?

Indeed, he was also very curious about this Katniss girl, especially the sudden romance that had been brought up at those interviews the night before. Surely, it had to be some kind of ploy, but he couldn't be certain. It had scarcely been a week since they'd arrived.

The younger children were all asleep, but the elder ones were wide awake, sitting at a battered wooden table watching the screen intently. The attendants were strict as to the time at which the children were to be asleep, and Edmund had been struck across the face once as a result, but tonight, as it was the first night of the games, their rules had relaxed slightly. Every so often, the camera would show a quick shot of Peter, asleep, curled beneath the overgrown roots of a tree and hidden behind some shrubbery. Safe. Temporarily.

Earlier, the bloodbath had been sickening to watch, but the action had died down and all that remained were the stragglers, tucked away in the farthest reaches of the arena, and the pack of the children they called "Careers", who were scouring the dark forest in search of more victims. How many lives they'd claimed already, Edmund had lost count.

On the screen, there was a spark. A fire! A girl, from which district he did not know, and struck a match over a pitiful pile of twigs and dried leaves. Daft! They would find her!

Many of the other children had gone on to bed by the time the Careers closed in, even Susan, but Edmund was unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. He wanted to, more than he'd wanted anything, but he found himself entirely unable. They flew in through the woods, blending into the darkness, and surrounded her. One drew a knife, and she had time to do naught but scream. Her cries pierced the air, but were soon silenced with a crunch that turned Edmund's stomach.

"What was that?" The voice was a small burst, a staccato of alarm through the screen's speakers. There had been something, a slight shuffle of leaves. The Careers searched the dark around them, for a moment looking as terrified as their victim had.

"It came from over there!" one informed the others harshly, and pointed to a large tree not a stone's throw from where they stood.

"I'll take care of this," grunted the first Career, and took the bloodied knife back out from its sheath. His footsteps were light, but still rustled the forest undergrowth. Edmund's breath caught in his throat, his hands shook, for he could see the curved roots of the tree. He could see the knot of shrubbery, and beneath it, he could see two perfect, blue discs of terror, and the steel blade on which they were focused.