The Guardian Games: The Odds of Five

Chapter 25: Tenuous Partnerships

Winter Quarter

"The blindfold?"

"Oh, just to put my life completely in your hands."

He'd messed up.

"You're a guardian, Jack."

He'd messed up.

"You thrive on protective instinct."

He'd messed up.

He'd never admit it, but the real reason he took over most of the night-watching was to avoid the nightmares that'd flood his mind if he even dared to shut his eyes. Elsa had seemed concerned, but never questioned his choices. She was no expert in comforting people, that much was apparent, and the only thing she knew was how to do was keep her distance. Jack appreciated the gesture, but inwardly he knew all it did was allow the remorse within to fester.

"Hope you're pleased." It had been the first of Bunnymund's accusing messages.

He'd messed up.

"It's all on your hands, you know." That had been the second.

He'd messed up.

An uncertain voice broke in, "Jack?"

He blinked, allowing his aimless staring to turn purposeful once more when he caught the concerned gaze of his goddess-like ally by his side. "Hmmph?"

Elsa seemed hesitant, and Jack guessed that asking what was bugging him was on the tip of her tongue. At the last moment however, she appeared to have changed her mind. "Are...are you cold?"

Sensing how awkward she must have felt in inquiring such a question, his face broke into a grin to laugh it off - anything to make her feel better. "Oh, I'm fine. I'm fine." He pulled the hood over his brown head, tucking his hands into the white coat. "See? All nice and cosy."

Yes, all his clothes were white now. Elsa had spun ice threads into his clothes, like her own. "For better camouflage against the snow," she had claimed, but Jack had detected disquiet when she had glanced at the tatters; these had been made on the day of ice castle had collapsed.

Strangely enough, the new clothes really kept him warm. Much warmer than the original had. Handling her other 'creations' like ice-knives and ice-fishing rods hadn't given him much of a frostbite, but they were cold on touch. His altered attire however was indeed toasty, and for once he was glad to tell her something true.

For now, they were just strolling beneath the snow-cap pines, as if they were venturing into a surrealistic winter wonderland. They were still full from breakfast, which was left-over venison from yesterday's hunt cooked by your truly indeed. Hence, the nabbing the next meal was not that urgent, and a little peace could be afforded while as they sought for a new for a new camp.

There had been fears that Careers might have returned, but those fears had been proven to be mistaken - perhaps they decided wallow in the warmer quarters a little longer to thaw out their frostbites. Lacking the constant sense of threat however gave the monster called 'guilt' more than ample opportunity to devour the soul of the District 10 boy. For no sooner had his companion ceased to speak than his mind flooded up with personalized taunts.

'You should have been there with her.'

'She was counting on you, Jack.'

'What on Earth were you thinking?

What had he been thinking? It only made sense protect the girl from his District. That way if he died but she lived, his mother and sister would at least enjoy the benefits of the extra food rewarded to the winning District. Tooth would have looked out for them – she had a big enough heart to.

But no, he had bailed out. He had thrown his lots with a foreign angel, coupled with a freeze factor and her own emotional burdens. On screen, it would have appeared that allying himself with the strongest tribute in the Arena this was nothing but a tactical move.

Jack had to chuckle grimly at that idea. If he really cared so much about 'tactics' as the Capitol would have wanted him to, he would have killed the District 3 boy at the Cornucopia when he had him a sword point. The metallic band that fit over his arm under his coat was a firm reminder of that.

Then why was he such a mess?

"I was wondering," he could hear her talking somewhere in the background, so he rapidly flushed out his own thoughts, "if you could, well, tell me the story. The Snow Queen one."

His head bolted up, shooting a surprised look at her. She blushed instantly, embarrassed at requesting for something so childish-seeming.

"I'm just curious about what it could be about," she defended herself.

He was exhausted, from his sleepless nights and his nightmarish days, but Jack couldn't find it in his heart to refuse the enchanting, beautiful blonde by his side.

"Sure." He glanced upwards through his own brown tufffs as he pondered how to begin, trying to ignore the ugliness lingering in the background. "It's supposed to be about, well, this spirit of winter that's called the Snow Queen, and she had this mirror. It was an evil mirror, or something like that."

'She thought you were her friend.'

"One day, the mirror was broken into a million of pieces, and these pieces were scattered over the world. One of the pieces fell into the eye of a little boy called Kai."

'You had an agreement with her - an alliance - and you broke it.'

"Kai used to sweet and kind little kid, but the shard fell into his heart – don't ask me the biology, it's a story-" Elsa made a snigger in response, which made his own grin a little more genuine "-but the thing turned his heart into a lump of ice. Suddenly, the whole world was just so ugly and rotten in his eyes, so he became nasty and mean-hearted."

'Oh, and the funniest bit? She actually believed in you, Jack. Called you a 'guardian'. What a joke. Oh, what a joke.'

"H-he had a best friend, a girl called Greta, and she bore the brunt of his changes, and, of course, she was hurt that he became so hateful and angry."

She believed in you, and you betrayed her."

"The Snow Queen wanted to fix her mirror back, so she kidnapped Kai - not that he resisted much. I mean, she was supposed to be drop-dead gorgeous and she took him flying in a magic sleigh. It's hard not to find it cool, right?"

"Was that a hint?" Elsa raised a brow at him, amusing tugging at the corner of lips.

He shrugged with feigned cheeriness. "Maybe. Maybe"

"Tooth was wrong. You're no guardian."

"Anyway, Greta noticed that he went missing, so she set out on a journey to find him. Long story short, she met a crazy witch, talking flowers, talking, some princess in some palace…"

"You're a selfish, impulsive idiot."

"Jack, are you okay?" Her words was only wind against his ears, as he got sucked into the vortex of self-reproach. He scarcely noticed that he was dragging his feet in the snow, and though his mouth was open to speak, no words came out. He didn't notice anxiety twisted on his lovely companion's face as she warily tapped his shoulder.

"Emma would be so, so ashamed."

Just when he was about to keel over and scream out the horrible of gnawing he had in his soul, a familiar sound rang in the air. A pinging sound.

A parachute.

His vision came back in focus, meeting the blue eyes that had been watching him worriedly for the past few seconds. Those eyes had now been averted, following out the silver package floating down from the sky. He too turned his head towards it, sinking feeling in his stomach increasing as they watched the object land on the snow drift before them.

Elsa remarked quietly, "It's probably yours."

It was not an inaccurate assumption. He was the one with throngs of sponsors and near-unending supply of funds. Wordlessly, he bent over, scooped up the container, detaching the parachute strings. Pulling off his gloves for better grip, he reached for the catch, but his red fingers paused as he gave a meaningful glance at the blonde girl.

Elsa deciphered it at once, suggesting herself, "I'll continue on further. I think there might be a cave or two in those mountain faces. Then you won't need to live in an igloo again."

That's pretty much what had happened the previous night. While traveling, they couldn't find anywhere to stay, so Elsa had constructed a little ice house for them. It was nice on the outside, but for a regular warm-blooded teenage boy it was freezing indoors. When he tried starting a fire inside, it took all of Elsa's concentration to keep the structure together – not quite five-star residence, obviously.

"Stay in yelling distance," he said with a slight grin, as it occurred to him how ridiculous such an instruction was as addressed to a girl who could form blizzards in her hands.

"Of course." She beamed in return, assuring and kind, but Jack noted the subtle uncertainty hidden in the corners of her eyes. She spun away, trudging through the snow with a grace that none but her could possibly achieve in trudging.

His fingers were frozen and heavy with dread as he fumbled with the latch, breaking over the container. The object inside was heavier than he had imagined and it had tumbled out just as the container lid flung open, dropping into the snow.

Huffing in annoyance, he stooped over, picking up the item but his heart almost stopped when he realized what it was. There was a wave of incredulity, then confusion. He scrutinized it carefully, checking its knobs and buttons. He had seen it use before, but never owned one. It was far too pricey, and the Overlands were never in particular need for it.

He experimented with the switches, twisting the knobs. He found the main button and holding it out a distance, he pressed it. The result was a bit of a shocker – no, very much the shocker, such that he jerked back from it. This must have been of the strongest of its kind ever invented, even with its light weight and small size. It must have been very costly to bring to him in the Games, and for the first Jack began to doubt that his mentor only had that much to splurge.

He pocketed his 'gift' first, before checking the metal container. As usual, a thin folded note was inside. Trembling with dread, he unfolded it.

'YOU'LL HAVE TO USE THIS SOME POINT,' it read sombrely.

At first he felt relief - relief that for once his mentor hadn't decided to take the opportunity to heap coals on his again. Then the good feeling dried up like desert rain, and the horror of the message came crashing down on him.

He couldn't do this. No, he couldn't. Not to her.

It wasn't like how he felt about the District 3 boy – no, that had been compassion. For Tooth, it had been responsibility - that he had a job and neglected it. But for Elsa … it was like snipping the petals of a perfect rose.

Something in him stood stoutly against such a crime, though he could not explain it.

Yet sensibility in him argued, 'There are no friends in the Arena. Only alliances you make, and alliances you break.'

There were no friendships. And there was nothing more than that either.

A sudden thunder clap nearly tore him out of skin when it boomed in his ear, and he raised his head sharply to the sky. But the sky of the winter quarter was clear and white, nary a sign of storm. Then he realized it was no thunder clap.

It was a cannon shot.

He paled. Elsa.

He called to her at once, but he could only hear traces of his voice beating against the cliff faces nearby. His breaths suddenly become short and shallow as he took off, almost flying over the thick snow.

Logic told him was anything happening to her was unlikely, but stranger things have happened. 'Ice sorceress or not', without a weapon and with the cursed rule, she was vulnerable. As a witness to the events at the Ice Castle, he knew that to be only too true, and that made him accelerate.

"Elsa!" He yelled so loud that he could almost feel a rip at the back of throat, but still no answer. His eyes darted furiously around, scanning through the bare pine trunks as he searched desperately.

If anything happened to her…

No! He shook off such thoughts, trying to focus. "Elsa!"

There was no sign of her. Her steps in the ice were faint, as if she hadn't walked in them at all, and even though he was supposed to be a decent tracker, he could barely read the marks with his mind torn apart by fear and dread.

If anything happened to her …

It was an unusual spray of frost on one of pine branches that pointed him in her direction once again. Thin remnants of newly made ice sheets on the ground told him how she had managed to get this far this fast. Racing forward, he was panting so heavily that it felt as if his ribs were on verge of snapping.

She couldn't just go like that. Not without explanation, and not soon. Not like Tooth.

If anything happened to her, he would never stop blaming himself.

He had been running so long and so hard that he hadn't noticed when the forest landscape had ended when the cliff-side began. There was no one there, but the splats of ices around there confirmed the worst of his fears.

"Elsa!" He was crying himself hoarse, but he didn't care. He whipped around the ice formation, seeking their maker but not finding her.

Then finally, a muffled reply, "Down here!"

He dashed to the cliff's edge, only forcing himself to halt when he realized the platform was nothing but slippery ice. Cautiously, he dropped to his knees, crawling over to the brink.

Peering over it, the sight that greeted him was a certainly out of place, but not unwelcome. Some feet below from where he was, Elsa was standing on what seemed to hasty constructed ice platform sticking carelessly to the face of the ice-cliff. Her appearance was somewhat disheveled, but besides that she was unharmed.

"What happened?" He almost screamed relief and disbelief erratically flooding into his system.

"Oh, I…slipped," she explained, half-embarrassed, half- casual. "Give me a moment and I'll get you down."

With a flick of her hand, a glassy stairway appeared, joining the cliff edge and her ice platform. Usually, Jack would have paused to examine the intrinsic designs she wove into the railings and on the handles, but for now he slid all the way down the steps without a second glance, rushing towards her.

"I was just looking over the edge to see if I could spot any caves out there," she gestured at the backdrop beyond them. "When the cannon shot rang out, I was startled and the cliff edge suddenly became ice and I sl-"

He cut in immediately, his tone becoming harsh. "What were you thinking? You could have died!"

She shrank back, shocked by his ferocity, before her expression became cool. "But I didn't." She tapped her foot on the ice ground pointedly. "In case you didn't notice, I do have ice powers."

"That wouldn't have saved you if you hit your head on the way down!" He didn't know it, but his voice was still raised. "And why did you run off like that?" She opened her mouth to interject, but he gave her no such opportunity, fervently exclaiming, "When two people make an agreement, they're supposed to keep it! If they agree to stay in yelling distance, they stay in yelling distance!"

He stopped short when he fully grasped what he had just said. The irony was like a slap across his face.

'You bloody hypocrite.' His mind took greedy pleasure in taunting him.

Elsa's visage was a mix. He caught some shock, a tint of hurt, a hint of shame. But it was melting quickly from her face as she slowly inhaled, her expression turning icy impassive. He could feel a rising chill around him, one that his wonderful new white coat couldn't protect him from. He observed by her clenched fists and pursed lips that she was trying to hold back.

Or maybe she was just trying not to disqualify herself by impaling him with icicles that very moment.

"I'm sorry." It was just to soothe her anger at first, but then he forced himself to be more sincere. "I'm sorry. I was just-" Paranoid? Guilty? Culpable for the death of an innocent girl? "-worried."

Elsa's fists unwound, and he noted that her muscle relax as her arms dropped by her side. Her breaths grew more even as she scanned his shivering form.

"I…I should be sorry." He could tell it was difficult for the words to even pass her lips. Her eyes gazed into his own. "You're right. I shouldn't have run-off." With some hesitation, she took was his trembling, ungloved hands and steadying it firmly in her own. "I won't do it again. Promise"

He didn't know how to answer that, so a silent lull came to sit between them. After a moment, his hands couldn't take it anymore. "Um, Elsa?"

"Yes?"

"Your hands are really cold."

She released him at once, stepping back as she did. "Yes. Of course. Sorry."

They turned their eyes back to the gaze at the frozen quarter, their eyes looking for any signs of movement.

"I don't think it happened here," he said at last. If it had, a hovercraft would have appeared by now to pick up the body.

"I don't think so too," she agreed willingly. They really didn't want any other tributes to be here. Death was not a pleasant topic to dwell, so she asked "Where to now?"

He waved at the snow-ridden land before them. "Let's try finding a campsite somewhere there, I guess."

She nodded. Her expression turned into one of focus as she raised her hands, willing yet again another stir way into existence. She beckoned him over, and both of them begun their steep descent to the valley below.

On their way down, her voice re-entered. "Um, Jack?"

"Yes?" His anger and fear had already melted away.

"For your concern - thank you. You're … you're a really sweet boy."

He couldn't stop the impish grin. "Even the yelling?"

She paused to shoot an amused look at him. "Well, maybe I could have had a little less of that."

The minute she swung back to face front, the grin was warped into a dark grimace. His hands went back to his pockets, fishing for his gloves again, only for his fingers to briefly brush against the metal canister that his mentor had just sent him. From the heights, his spirits plummeted back down as he recalled his mentor's words. 'You'll have to use this at some point.'

He wondered if she would still think him 'a really sweet boy' if she knew he carried a blowtorch with enough firepower to burn through one of her icicles in a second - or if he wanted to, her skull.

Autumn Quarter

"Did you see her face? It was like 'Oh, please don't kill me! Don't kill me! Please don't- ahhhh! Hehehe-"

There were snickers that followed Dagur's twisted rendition of the events preceding the cannon shot. Astrid only felt the sickened feeling in her gut growing as she washed the blood off her hands. She could hear her allies chatting amongst themselves, almost as if they hadn't heard the hovercraft swooping over their heads to pick up the fresh kill sprawled on the red and yellow ground.

She had no one to blame for the bile rising up her throat. She had chosen to put the District 9 girl down herself, and it was fair that she had to live the consequences.

To be frank, it wasn't as if she had wanted to kill the girl. No, it was a matter of survival; if she didn't prove herself to be the steely, heartless killer as they had expected her to be, the Careers would have ganged up on her and put her out for once and for all.

She already had two strike-outs. The first was the District 12 boy, Hans. He wasn't dead, and it's been two days since the battle on the mountain. She couldn't understand why he hadn't bled to death – Heather had struck him through and through - and she said as much to her allies confronted her the matter. Not that it mattered now – they had pinned his survival down as her fault for not finishing the job. The second had been the escape of the District 3 boy. Dagur had blamed her for leaving him behind on the camp in the first place. Gothel had blamed her for even sparing the wiry boy's life. Shen outwardly hadn't blamed her for anything, only quietly sharpening his curved blade. His pierced ribs were now securely wrapped, but every now and then he would grunt in pain, before .

Basically, in the team where everyone shared mutual dislike for one another, she, Astrid Hofferson, top of District 2's Career Training and the youngest to ever be so, was the least liked. And when it came to the Careers, being on the extreme end of the scale was always precarious situation.

She had been anticipating today. To going to the Autumn Quarter. It had been decided they needed more time to strategize on how to eliminate the ice witch, soon the meanwhile they would set their sights on a new target – preferably a more human one. She had seen the District 5 girl flee into the quarter of brown maples, and she had been all too eager to provide that information. Besides survival instincts, her thirst for action and adrenaline drove her to desire a worthy opponent, and who better than the tribute with the score of eleven?

But for the long hours they had spent today in combing through the hills of fallen leaves, they hadn't found the District 5 girl. She was either hiding well, or she had left the quarter all together. Only by chance they had stumbled on the District 9 girl. She was an unremarkable person, and obviously none too bright to choose to drink from a river so openly. Though she had never considered herself a huntress, even Astrid had known that this was the easiest kind of prey.

When they had the unfortunate tribute pinned to the ground, the Careers had cast lots on who got to do it, and it fell on Dagur. However, the scarred boy had taken his time, taunting and nicking the girl till Shen had snapped at him to hurry up. That one sarcastic quip had somehow set Dagur off in exploding fury, starting a yelling match loud enough to scare off all the birds in the immediate vicinity. If the District 5 girl had been anywhere near here, the voices would have sent her off.

Gothel had decided to intervene, but it had been unsuccessful. Frustrated and impatient, she had raised her own axe and beheaded their miserable victim for once and for all.

Their voices had fallen and their eyes had turned to her: the short, gangly girl panting heavily as she wiped the blood off her face. Any accusations or her being 'soft' or 'cowardly' had gone out of the window as she had grimly told them to stop wasting time and shut up.

She had somewhat regained the trust of her teammates – or whatever it was they kept between them -and another kill had been added to her name. But as she washed the blood off herself in the same river that the 'casualty' had been drinking from, a wave of revulsion swept over her.

This wasn't what she wanted.

When they had spoken of the Games at home, they had spoken of the opportunity; the chance to become more than who you were; to be a victor. But what kind of victory was it to defeat someone who couldn't fight back? Most other trainees in Career Training had always focused on the material rewards that came with victor-ship, but for her? It was the honor. To be the bringer of honor and pride to her district was her deepest wish.

But to earn honor, one must fight honorably with respect and dignity, like a warrior. And to be the very best warrior indeed was her life-long goal.

She reflected on the difference between the first time she had spilled blood and her most recent. Her battle against the District 5 boy had been largely in defense. He might have stood a chance if he only had the training, since it had been only after much struggle that she had managed to overcome him after all. He had dared to put up a fight and she could respect that.

But the death of the District 9 girl had such no dignity. It was short, quick and convenient. It was no warrior's fight, but a butcher's slaughter. The slaughter of easy prey.

When most of the red on her clothes and weapon was gone, she joined her allies once again. They were sharing a small meal amongst themselves while engaged in conversation, and one could mistake them for conversing friends if it was the weapons strapped to their backs and waist. She had taken one of sandwiches Gothel had prepared, before setting herself down on small stone crag, sullenly biting into the chewy goodness.

"-think the District 12 boy manage to survive so long?" The question had been asked by Dagur.

Astrid quickly shot a glare at him for bringing up her 'slip-up' again. However, the scarred boy wasn't facing her at all, and she realized that he brought it up out of curiosity rather than accusation, so she relaxed and resumed to chew on the food, trying to ignore how her coat still smelled of iron.

"Maybe your late district mate didn't cut him right," Shen mused half-absently, his focus more on observing the scenery around them.

"Hello - District 4?" Dagur made a disbelieving expression. "We do fishing – spear fishing. Heather knew her way with spears. Like in everything else." The last part muttered bitterly.

"Maybe it was something else," Astrid provided, glad that so far the conversation hadn't veered back to her. "Do you think the Ice Witch went back for her boyfriend?"

That earned a scornful snort of laughter from Gothel, who in turn earned quizzical faces from the other members of the company. "Oh, pardon me," she apologized laughingly, wiping a tear from her eye. "It's just that, well, I don't think they're really a couple at all."

"Like it's for show?"

"Well, that's possible." There was little that the two Career girls agreed on, but on this matter the blonde girl found herself nodding. "It's not as if they had time to build a relationship. He'd just confessed on interview day."

"Then it must be sponsors."

"C'mon! You've seen the guy! He's hardly sponsor material,"

"No, no, he isn't indeed," Gothel said, as she unsheathed one of her daggers, fiddling with it. "But" a wry smile twisted on her lips, her brown eyes holding a knowing gleam in them, "his so-called girlfriend is."

"And I just though we settled that they aren't really a couple." The District 4 boy's tone was heavy with exasperation, even as he drove his heavy sword into the leafy dirt ground.

Astrid leaned in slightly, musing, "Well, he likes her. At least he claims too. That's half the love-equation."

Gothel scoffed at her input. "Nonsense, darling. We all know that it's impossible for men to truly love."

"Of course, you would speak from experience." The malice-laden comment from the usually level voice gained the attention of the entire group. Shen only responded to the weight of their stares by raising an eyebrow, before peering at the target of his disparagement.

Gothel straightened her posture, her lips pursing as she tossed her curls back. For one moment she appeared furious, until traces of anger molded into a countenance of steely derision. Her tone was deceptively calm. "Well, Shen, dear, at least I understand the concept of love."

"You don't know anything about 'love' any more than I do." The edge in the martial artist's voice suddenly sharpened. "And don't 'dear' me."

Gothel cocked her head to one side, feigning concern. "Oh my, my, my." She clucked her tongue, raising her eyebrows in false surprise, "I haven't happened to have reminded you of 'mummy dearest', have I, Shen dear?"

His usually pale-faced face blackened. "Shut up, or so help me, those will be your last words."

Both other Careers shrank back at the ferocity, but Gothel only threw her head back, cackling.

"Oh dearest, darling-est Shen, if you could really kill me, you would have done it long ago in the Academy. But of course," Gothel gave a careless shrug, tossing a condescending beam to her district-mate, "you were never good enough."

It is said that it's near impossible for a forest to be silent – too many insects buzzing, bird squeaking, winds rustling the dried leaves – yet somehow this was achieved as the white-haired boy from District 1 narrowed his brows at the smirking girl toying with her array of daggers. Unconsciously, Astrid placed her sandwich down, while bringing her dripping axe onto her lap.

Eventually, the tension was broken by a very peeved Dagur. "As 'interesting' as this conversation is – with all the thinly-veiled secrets and sob-stories and broken childhood issues you guys probably have-" both District 1 tributes glared at him, but the scarred boy remained unperturbed "-could we really get back to the topic before I get annoyed and start cutting up your collective livers? Yep. Thanks."

Shen grunted at this remark, getting to his feet as he stomped off to the forest instead. Gothel smirked again, this time triumphantly, while Astrid struggled to keep her own face impassive, though her muscles were screaming for her to run. But of course, she couldn't.

"As I was saying earlier, I have a little theory about the cute redhead of District 12," the black-haired girl began – which made no sense, because she had said no such thing before the conversation had veered off course. "I'm guessing that he knew about her powers before the Games."

"He looked surprised," the blonde objected, running her fingers along the axe blade.

Gothel waved it away quickly. "Could be faked, dearie. I do it all the time. Now where was I? " she tapped her lips, before her face lighting up again. "Ah, yes. So our little red headed Hans concocts a wonderful little love story between him and the ice witch, then feigns horror to discover his beloved actually has ice-powers - but really, he isn't – but nonetheless still continues to play the smitten little puppy and feeds 'feels' the Capitol by saving her life in the castle, blah, blah."

Gothel broke-off the tirade to take a sip of water. At that moment, Astrid was surprised by how intently she had been listening all along. Somehow, the idea of using a 'love-story' as some kind of survival tactic intrigued her - maybe because an idea based sentimentality and 'weak emotions' was foreign in District 2. Idly, she wondered if she would ever be able to pull something like that off with Hic-

She promptly erased the thought.

"By this time," the older girl continued, "throngs of die-hard romantics would be clambering to give funds to 'support' their favorite little couple. The ice witch doesn't need those sponsors, of course, because she's an ice witch. That means however-"

"-all the funds are redirected to the twelve boy," the quiet voice of Shen finished her sentence. Any anger he and previously had vanished, but there was still iron in his eyes. "What time is it?"

Astrid squinted thought the foliage over head. "Late afternoon? Sundown won't be for long."

"We need to leave. Now." His tone indicated no room for argument, but of course, his allies didn't pay heed to it.

"What? Didn't we just, I don't know, get here?"

"This is certainly an outrageous idea!"

"We haven't even found that redhead girl from District 5!" Astrid was taken aback by how desperate she sounded. She needed to fight someone – someone who was actually worthy of her. Maybe it would wash out her own self-disgust. Well, maybe.

Shen was unmoved by the protests. "If that girl stays in this quarter, then she is a fool. A great beast haunts these parts. One who can be hurt and yet not harmed." Slowly, he raised one of his arms, shows wooden splinters in his closed palm, the blunted metal ends showing them to have once been arrows. Gravely, he turned to her, "You said the District 5 girl took a bow and quiver, didn't you?"

Astrid could feel her throat drying up as she took one of snapped arrowheads in her own hand. It was coated in dried blood, with bits of black hairs stuck to it. "Y-yes."

Shen nodded, before casting the rest of the pieces to the ground. He turned to the other tributes. "It took us almost half a morning to come this far in this quarter, and it'll not less than half an afternoon to return. If we are fortunate, the beast only roams the night."

"Yes, yes, how very dramatic," Astrid could hear Gothel murmuring under her breath, but she at least appeared slightly disturbed by this news as well.

"This is stupid!" Dagur declared furiously, rising his arms in frustration. "Why can't we just hunt the darn creature?"

The pale boy from District 1 quickly assessed him and his childish pout. In a voice dripping in contempt, he replied, "If you wish to risk your skin by provoking some mutt somewhere, be my guest. Your company would be sorely missed, of course, but I'm sure we'll make do." The sarcasm in the last sentence was not lost on the other boy, and he glowered accordingly.

Shen ignored him, gesturing to the girls to follow. Astrid scrambled her feet, swinging her axe over her shoulder, while Gothel hopped up from spot to join them on the path, leaving the sullen scarred boy behind.

As they wandered back into forest, Astrid began to truly understand Shen's concern. Splinters of bark and scatter brambles were all around, marking a terrifying clear trail of destruction, leading into the misty depths of the darker woods. On certain remaining debris, she noted the giant scratches that must have come from paws twice as large as them.

As they soberly trekked under the cover of the maple reds, they were interrupted by the crunching of leaves leaves underfoot. Unsurprisingly it was the District 4 boy, still sulking as he reluctantly filed himself in with them.

"Didn't expect you to join us so soon. I expected ten more seconds," Shen remarked tauntingly. The scared boy's face darkened, but he made no reply.

As they approached the edge of the autumn, someone asked, "So what now?"

Shen's answer was precise. "We return. We rest. We hunt again tomorrow."

"Here? Again?" Astrid waited with bated breath.

"Maybe let's try someplace that might have less freaky creatures."

"The Witch's in the Winter. The beast stalks the Autumn. So …Summer?"

"Summer."

Summer Quarter

Hiccup was at abnormal state of peace.

In front of him a merry little stream – a rare sight in the rocky Summer Quarter. There he had set up an assortment of fish traps, and before evening he had no doubts that it would be crammed with fishes before sundown.

On his shoulder sat a pesky, but remarkably well-behavior little mutt- ahem, dragon which he had learnt was called a 'Terrible Terror'. In his hand, he held the last bola net that he had, before weaving into the wooden frame that he had cut out.

"I think that's about it, Sharpshot," he told green-reptile. Yes, apparently it seemed his fate that he would forever speak to creatures that couldn't speak back.

The terrible terror simply licked it's nose, its large yellow eyes flicking from him to the nets, then licking its nose again. Hiccup had to admit that once you get past athe fact that it could spit fire from its mouth and it was created by a bunch of dogmatic control-freaks, it was kind of…cute.

His friendship with this little creature took off better than whatever his attempt with Toothless. He suspected that the latter probably had pride issues, or maybe he – it still held a grudge against the human who shot him down.

Yes, the majestic Night Fury was dubbed Toothless.

In the few hours Hiccup had spent wandering about the cove soaked in dragon spit, somehow most of his cuts had gotten got healed up. He had started feeling so reenergized in the cove that he had fished up the entire lake as a form of thanks towards the big black beast.

With his catches, he had tried to bribe the ebony dragon in letting him touch it, just once – he just wanted to know what the scales were smooth or rough, or how wide exactly was its tail. But Toothless had been all too enthusiastic about gobbling down his offerings and all too unenthusiastic about his attempts to make contact with him – it, he meant it.

In summary, he had wasted a good afternoon, and now the lake had run out of fish.

He had been really reluctant to leave the cove; it felt safe, isolated and hidden from all the scary tributes that were bigger and stronger than him. But fish was one of the main things that kept Toothless from swallowing him whole, so …yeah. Hobson's choice much.

He had somehow managed to leave the cove through the ravine he had entered from, and found himself plunging deeper into the unfriendly forest before finding a river-way that had fish slightly larger than the palm of his hand. It wasn't that hard to build some new fish traps, so he did, and dumped them into the stream accordingly.

Just as he scooped out his first catch, a dragon no larger than a house cat had leapt down one of the trees, jumping onto the fish pile, sniffing early at the fresh catch. He had tried to shoo it off the way one would shoo off the house-cat, entirely forgetting that the dragon what it was and, well... let's just say his hair still felt a little singed.

Subsequently however, the creature had called a ceasefire when it was distracted by the reflective shine from the metal band around his wrist. Puzzled yet amused, Hiccup had rotated the band a few times, watching as the lizard-like beast had hopped after the spot of light, mesmerized.

Teasing the creature had been a good start, but after deciding to feed it a fish did the creature really warm up to him. It liked to rub its spiny head against his shin, or perching on his shoulder. With a few fish bribes, it eventually started taking instructions, like fetching his tools, or carrying ropes over the branches he couldn't climb. Why couldn't Toothless be this easy to train?

Train – did he just think the word train? That was a rather strange way of putting it; sounded like he was running a circus or something.

With his distaste towards dragons somewhat lessened, but his fear of them unchanged, Hiccup embarked on a new project while waiting for the fish traps to do their work. It was to build traps once, but this time, for dragons.

With the electric drill gone, his fun-times with funky contraptions were over, but basic physics and ingenuity managed to get him through. Having hung out here for so long, he was starting to get very familiar with the area, especially the part nearer to the cove entrance. Hence, he started constructing some traps to snare the beasts. The traps, made of only wood and rope, would hardly hold fire-breathers for forever, but that was the point. After his experience with Toothless,he decided that there was no way he was ever building something that would could hold any creature permanently. Thus, each trap was carefully crafted to delay, rather than to destroy or starve.

Fine, he didn't like killing things, even mutts. Happy?

It was at this point that abnormal state of peace that peace was broken. Just as Sharpshot had helped him to fix up the latest dragon trap, the creature's head suddenly jerked skyward in alarm, its eyes darting frantically about.

"What's up, bud?" He asked the reptile, but it made no response.

The lizard-like animal left his shoulder, flying back to the pile of fish he had caught. When Hiccup tried to stop him – it, it! -snarled back at him, as if it didn't recognize him at all.

Hiccup recoiled instantly. "Sharpshot!"

The beast simply took a fish in its maw, thin narrow black of its pupils glaring at him. It was only then that Hiccup had saw the something glowing on the creatures neck, a faint humming sound coming from it.

A microchip.

With a flap of the wings, Sharpshot took off to the air, not sparing a glance behind.

'Fickle friendships,' Hiccup thought morosely. Well, at least Toothless never flew away. But that was because – right.

So Hiccup dejectedly returned to his pile of fish, checking his fish traps. Once more, he was alone. He was starting to miss the Night Fury's dismissive company.

Of course, Hiccup wasn't alone as he thought, but he only found that after he felt something latch around his legs and lift him off the ground, twirling him in circles. Disorientated and extremely surprised, a cry escaped he found himself dangling off a tree branch, suspended upside down. He was only groping helplessly in the air, only for another cord of hair to spring out from nowhere and wrapped around his upper torso all, strapping his arms to his side.

Wait. Hair?

"I can't believe I did this."

Startled, he jerked his head back to see the owner of the voice, only to smack his head against a tree trunk instead. "Ow! Ow. Ow."

"I can't believe I actually did this!"

He blinked, his entire body spinning around as he wriggled in his golden bonds, before the angle of vision was adjusted sufficiently such that his eyes would be meet those of a bright shade of green.

"Ahhhhhhh!" He cringed back, and his scalp collided with the trunk again.

"I can't believe I actually did this!"

"Ahhhhhhh!" The boy yelled, shirking back and instantly hit his head again.

Rapunzel's overload of joy diminished somewhat as she noticed the grimace on his face. "Oh, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm- " he left it hanging there. The same way he was hanging off a tree trunk. Which was because she put him there.

It was just as well, because her attention was taken up by the little number written on his battered black coat. He was a Career. She had captured a Career all on her own; no help from any strange allies, and certainly no help from Eugene. She couldn't refrain doing a little jig right then and there. "I can't believe I did this!"

"Your sympathy is killing me," the boy deadpanned in his weird nasally voice. He peered down – or rather, up – at his bonds. "This is really hair, isn't?"

He pretty much lost her at 'killing me'.

Kill him. She inhaled sharply. Now she just had to kill him.

The idea really made her queasy, so she spun away from him for a moment, pacing up and down she pondered. "Okay. Just need to kill him. Just need to kill him. Okay, but how?"

"On second thought, maybe it's not that great an idea-"

The blonde ignored him because her mental capacities were fully occupied in the task on hand. "Fastest method of death available? Knife to the… throat? But that's really gross. So...? The heart, I guess."

"You guess?" The boy squeaked incredulously. He was aghast, but since this was really about his demise, it was natural that he was concerned about it.

She searched through her satchel, fumbling for the little blade. She held out to her victim, and he tensed up immediately. Marching forward, she grimly approached him, holding the steel near his upper ribs. She could see him trying squirm away, but the bonds were too tight.

This was her kill.

She breathed in then breathed out, as ready to plunge it all the way. "I can do this, I can do this," she murmured, trying to shut out the accelerated respiration from the Career boy.

About a minute later.

"I can't do this!" The knife was flung away. "I'm sorry. It's just too weird to stab something – to stab you. It's just …too direct."

The boy sighed in relief, but, of course, it was far too soon.

"It's okay, though. I mean, I can strangle you! Yeah! Strangle you with my … I have to strangle you with my hair?" A paused for thought. "But that's disgusting!"

Another minute later.

"Tell you what; I'm going to throw you into stream and drown you."

A hasty glance and a sigh later.

"Okay, the stream's kinda shallow. That would pose a problem…"

Quiet contemplation later.

"I guess I could just hang you by the neck till you - you know - die."

Hardly a pause later.

"But I'd pry your corpse from my hair. Eww."

A shudder later.

"Um, sorry to interrupt, but couldn't you just let me-"

"No."

"Erm, but-"

"No!"

"-but-"

"This is stupid! I'm just going to kill you and get this over with."

A long staring contest later.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should let you go…"

A blink later.

"No! Can't trust people like you! No way!"

A headbang against a tree trunk later.

"I have brought dishonor:to my district, to my mentor, to my chameleon…"

Later.

"District 2 boy, PREPARE TO MEET YOUR MAKER!"

Later.

"I'm a wimp - a sad, pathetic wimp. I'm utterly useless. I should just die."

Later.

"I. WILL. END. YOU!"

Later.

She was curled up in a ball with her hands in her palms, her mind blank and her entire body shaking.

She heard a little throat clearing in the background. "Um, hi?"

Rapunzel gazed up towards the upside down boy.

"Don't to pry or anything," he continued, flushing – or was because blood was rushing in his face? "But you seemed to be - I don't know - at war with yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" She asked timidly, as if she was the one in bonds instead of him.

"Um." He bit his lip nervously. Rapunzel took the opportunity to thoroughly take in his appearance – bony figure, messy hair, spray of uneven freckles over his cheeks. It was only then that she realizes how harmless he looked. It brought her back to interview, when she bore witness to the awkward, droll yet lighthearted boy who poured his heart to television.

Career. Harmless. It seemed impossible that the two words could be next to each other.

The boy muttered a string of oaths before he informed her, "I got a proposition for you."

She merely raised a brow at him but said nothing in return.

"You don't really want to kill me, and I can assure you I won't kill you"- her eyebrow shot up even higher. "So I think we should, you know, work together."

Her skepticism was apparent. "Uh-huh."

The boy tried to shrug which resulted in him twirling around again. "It's not like it'd be the end of the world."

There was a pause.

"Okay, it might be the end of the world. But you could do way worse than me."

"You're a Career." She said it as if it was self-explanatory, and it was.

He argued. "Well if you could catch me off guard, I can't be a good one, can I?"

She pressed her lips together, locking her eyes with those of the boy again, searching for mischief. In the periphery of her vision however, there was a shiny glint. She traced quickly back to it source, and then she surprised at what she saw.

Around the boy's wire like arm was a gleaming metal band, identical to hers.

"Where did you get that?" She pointed at him, her jaw almost fall to the ground.

He craned his neck uncomfortably to follow her finger. "Oh, that? Err…it was a gift?"

"So was mine." She raised her left arm, rolling her sleeve back to reveal her band.

The boy's eyeballs looked they were going to pop out of their sockets.

Rapunzel gazed at him intently, her mind whirring awake again. She turned on a heel, putting some distance between him and herself.

She was ready to have an alliance again, with the shock of the Tooth's passing – Tooth's sacrifice – fading. But to trust a Career was one thing Eugene had constantly warned her against. But this boy? She supposed he wasn't quite a Career – he was obviously not with the bigger, scarier lot. And he was polite.

'And where's Eugene now?' A resentful voice inside her asked.

Determined she marched back to where her prisoner was, ready to make peace and scandalize world, when her foot caught a net and…

"Look out!"

She heard a whizzing sound before finding herself unceremoniously dragged into the air. When her head stopped swimming, she was bewildered to discover that she was now tangled in ropes and hair, five feet above the ground.

"…and that's how you waste a perfectly good dragon trap." The boy's tone had an air of defeat.

A stillness fell as they examined their trapped selves, then each other, then themselves.

She spoke first, "So you said something about it not being the end of the world…"

S/N:

The Elsa and Jack portion is based on the THG scene where Katniss and Peeta briefly separate and Katniss gets panicky when Peeta doesn't anwer her signal after a cannon is shot.

Oh, I forgot to add this: The Snow Queen story that Jack is telling is based on the original Snow Queen story by Hans Christian Anderson.

I do have backstory for Shen and Gothel, but it's not really related to this one, and it's sorta disturbing, so I may never write it in. Depends.

Hiccup did train a Terrible Terror called Sharpshot in the Defenders of Berk series.

Rapunzel's POV is supposed to resemble the 'mood swing scene' in Tangled.

A/N: Phew! My exams are coming up, so this is really going to be the last update till I plunge into the work for the next two week. Yay me.

This is really one of my longest chapters yet, and honestly not one of my best. Sorry if the quality is crappy, but I've been really tired this week, and all the story parts were written in drips and drabs.

Mailbox:

Countrygal15: I actually learnt this from the wiki, so I can't take credit. And I just adore Merida and Van! They're a great team.

A way to uncreative girl: But the dark side has cookies! And Darth Vader!

QueenElsaOfArendelle1:To your 'question', I can only say – muhahahaha!

Awsomaniatica: Thanks. I love Toothless, but it's hard to write animals. I think when during planning stages, I only made Merida's dad a victor of a year's game because of his missing leg. Huh.

Nightingale82: Glad you liked the glitch explanation – it's pretty important actually. Maybe. Not. I dunno. Apparently talking to self happens to more than just Hiccup… Love your picture, by the way. I love Babs.

Maggie: Thanks lots for your really long review! I'm glad you've enjoyed the portrayal of the characters here, though I must warn that their likely to veer into a lot of reflectiveness and moodiness, because – well, the games do stuff to you. I can't like Jelsa, simply because when it comes to ships I'm pretty hardcore canon. So I actually ship Elsa with no one and Jack with no one and Merida with no one etc, though I can be accepting of people shipping them. There are Jelsa-ish moments in this story, and Jack and Elsa will be very close, but romantic relationship will not be promised here. (And even if it were, it doesn't mean happily ever after. This is the Hunger Games). Thanks for reading!

Guest: I hope here's some Team J.E. to tide you over. By 'only five', I assume that you're referring to what Honey said when she was dying. I can't say out right (though it's pretty obvious), but it's kinda like she's aware that there could be 'only five' and she didn't want to waste it by keeping it for herself since she was dying, so she gave it away. I hope this is what you were asking about. Thanks for your review!

Another Fangirl: Thank you for finally reviewing! Here's a short punzie POV, and I hope it amused you, and some Astrid, though I admit it's not my best writing. For Elsa understanding true love, I can only say…muhahahahaha!

Thanks folks! These reviews really make my day. I'm really dropping off now, so… good bye.

Review. Ask Question. Critique. Whatever.