A/N: Hey guys. Another chapter up. Expect most of my updates Sundays (Philippines time) from now on since College is starting to kick off in its busy-ness. Anyway, enjoy. Read and Review please!

Maria Feodorovna (Anastasia) - Seeder

Meeting Old Friends

"You know they didn't expect that to happen."

It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. Jack bets they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why they don't remember seeing it on television.

Jack snickers. "It's almost as bad as us and the berries!"

Jack can't help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Hiccup just shakes his head like Jack's lost his mind—and maybe he has, a little.

"Almost, but not quite," says Aster from behind them. They whip around, afraid he's going to be angry over the boys watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes the remaining milk and leaves. He had a smudge of paint on his cheek that Hiccup managed to notice.

The brunette realizes something else, though, at that moment. He's spent all these weeks getting to know who his competitors are, taking down notes, without even thinking about who his teammates are. Now a new kind of confidence is lighting up inside of him, because Hiccup thinks he finally know who Aster is. And he's beginning to know who he was.

And surely, two people who have caused Berk so much trouble can think of a way to get Jack home alive.

:::::

Having been through prep with Flynn, Monty, and Olaf numerous times, it should just be an old routine to survive. But Jack hasn't anticipated the emotional ordeal that awaits him. At some point during the prep, each of them bursts into tears at least twice, and Olaf pretty much keeps up a running whimper throughout the morning. It turns out they really have become attached to him, and the idea of his returning to the arena has undone them. Combine that with the fact that by losing him they'll be losing their ticket to all kinds of big social events, particularly a future wedding Elsa may or may not have been betting for, and the whole thing becomes unbearable.

The idea of being strong for someone else having never entered their heads, Jack finds himself in the position of having to console them. Since he's the person going in to be slaughtered, this is somewhat annoying. It's interesting, though, when he thinks of what Hiccup said about the attendant on the train being unhappy about the victors having to fight again. About people in Berk not liking it. Jack still thinks all of that will be forgotten once the gong sounds, but it's something of a revelation that those in Berk feel anything at all about them. They certainly don't have a problem watching children murdered every year. But maybe they know too much about the victors, especially the ones who've been celebrities for ages, to forget they're human beings.

It's more like watching your own friends die. More like the Games are for those of us in the districts.

By the time Elsa shows up, Jack is irritable and exhausted from comforting the prep team, especially because their constant tears are reminding him of the ones undoubtedly being shed at home. Standing there in his thin robe with his stinging skin and heart, he knows he can't bear even one more look of regret.

So the moment Elsa walks in the door he snaps, "I swear if you cry, I'll kill you here and now."

Elsa giggles. "Had a damp morning?"

"You could wring me out," Jack replies.

Elsa puts her arm around his shoulder and leads him into lunch. "Don't worry. Anna and I always channel our emotions into our work."

"I can't go through that again," Jack warns her.

"I know. I'll talk to them," says Elsa.

Lunch makes Jack feel a bit better. Pheasant with a selection of jewel-colored jellies, and tiny versions of real vegetables swimming in butter, and potatoes mashed with parsley. For dessert they dip chunks of fruit in a pot of melted chocolate, and Elsa has to order a second pot because Jack starts just eating the stuff with a spoon.

"So, what are we wearing for the opening ceremonies?" Jack finally asked as he scrapes the second pot clean. "Snowflakes or Ice?" He knows the chariot ride will require him and Hiccup to be dressed in something ice related.

"Something along that line." she says.

~o~

When it's time to get in costume for the opening ceremonies, Hiccup's prep team shows up but Anna sends them away, saying they've done such a spectacular job in the morning, there's nothing left to do. They go off to recover, thankfully leaving him in Anna's hands. She carefully took selected strands and tied them into the small braided style Valka introduced her to, then proceeds with the male makeup.

The costume looks deceptively simple at first, just a fitted Vinyl White jumpsuit except with extra tiny circular cylinder looking things that covers him from the neck down. She places a pointed glass-like helmet of sorts over Hiccup's head. Then she presses a button just inside the fabric on his wrist.

Hiccup feels cold, with a shiver, he looks down, fascinated, as cold fog comes out from the tiny cylinder things, the lighting effect caused Hiccup's helmet to seem like some sort of glacier. Almost like the same one at the underground lake they have seen back home on field trips. And now Hiccup IS a glacier straight from their District. The colors rise and fall once more like the auroras last year, and Hiccup sees that the lights come from the helmet itself with no need of a laser.

"How did you do this?" Hiccup says in wonder.

Anna giggled. "Elsa's idea. She and I spent a lot of hours watching glaciers on cold oceans from historic documentaries," says Anna. "Now look at yourself." She turns the brunette toward a mirror so that he can take in the entire effect.

~o~

Elsa makes Jack face the mirror. He does not see a boy, or even a man, but some crystallized being who looks like he might make a home in the bitterest tundra plane with a freezing weather so bitter no one can live on it. The helmet almost blocks off his face with the lights it emits but it also does the job to protect Jack's face from being covered with frosting.

Jackson, the living Frostbite.

"I think ... this is just what I needed to face the others," He says.

Elsa smiles. She touches the button on the wrist again, extinguishing the fog and lights. "Let's not run down your power pack. When you're on the chariot this time, no waving, no smiling. I just want you to look straight ahead, as if the entire audience is beneath your notice."

"If Hiccup's got a similar costume, I don't think I can look at anything else."

Elsa laughs. She has a few more things to attend to, so Jack decides to head down to the ground floor of the Remake Center, which houses the huge gathering place for the Lights and their chariots before the opening ceremonies, hoping to find Hiccup and Aster, but they haven't arrived yet... or they have but he can't see where they are yet.

Unlike last year, when all the Lights were practically glued to their chariots, the scene is very social. The victors, both this year's Lights and their mentors, are standing around in small groups, talking. Of course, they all know one another and Jack doesn't know anyone, and he's not really the sort of person to go around introducing himself. So he just strokes the neck of one of his horses and try not to be noticed.

It doesn't work. The crunching hits his ear before he even know someone's beside him, and when he turns his head, Jean Kirstein's eyes are only inches from his.

He pops a sugar cube in his mouth and leans against Jack's white horse. "Hello, Jack," he says, as if they've known each other for years, when in fact they've never met.

"Hello, Jean," Jack says, just as casually, although he's feeling uncomfortable at his closeness, especially since Jean's got so much bare skin exposed.

"Want a sugar cube?" he says, offering his hand, which is piled high. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but people always do tell me I look like one so there."

Jean Kirschtein is something of a living legend in Burgess. Since he won the Sixty-fifth Nightmare Games when he was only fourteen, he's still one of the youngest victors. Being from District 4, he was a High, so the odds were already in his favor. Not to mention he was quite handsome, and not the baby face type that Jack seemed to sport, that the women swooned over. There was a certain degree of badass to him too that the manly males of Berk appreciated.

While other Lights that year were hard-pressed to get a handful of grain or some matches for a gift, Jean never wanted for anything, not food or medicine or weapons. It took about a week for his competitors to realize that he was the one to kill, but it was too late. He was already a good fighter with the spears and knives he had found in the Cornucopia. When he received a silver parachute with a trident—which may be the most expensive gift Jack's ever seen given in the arena—it was all over.

District 4's industry is fishing. He'd been on boats his whole life. The trident was a natural, deadly extension of his arm. He wove a net out of some kind of vine he found, used it to entangle his opponents so he could spear them with the trident, and within a matter of days the crown was his. The citizens of Berk have been drooling over him ever since. Because of his youth, they couldn't really touch him for the first year or two. But ever since he turned sixteen, he's spent his time at the Games being dogged by those desperately in love with him. No one retains his favor for long. He can go through four or five in his annual visit. Old or young, lovely or plain, rich or very rich, he'll keep them company and take their extravagant gifts, but he never stays, and once he's gone he never comes back. Jack can't argue that Jean isn't one of the most stunning, sensuous people on the planet. But he can honestly say Jean's never been attractive to him.

Maybe it's that he'd just be too easy to lose.

"No, thanks," Jack say to the sugar. "I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though." He quips.

Jean's draped in a golden net that's strategically knotted at his groin so that he can't technically be called naked, but he's about as close as you can get. Jack's sure his stylist thinks the more of Jean the audience sees, the better.

Jean casually taps the eye visor of the crystallized helmet of Jack. "It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in Berk. Jewels, money, anything you wanted."

"I don't like jewels, and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Jean?" Jack asked.

"Oh, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years," says Jean.

"Then how do they pay you for the pleasure of your company?" Jack asked.

"With secrets," Jean says softly. He tips his head in so his lips are almost in contact with Jack's. "What about you, Frostbite boy? Do you have any secrets worth my time?"

For some stupid reason, Jack blushes, but he forces himself to hold his ground. Hiccup, Hiccup's emeralds, Hiccup's freckles, Hiccup's crooked smile... "No, I'm an open book," Jack whispers back. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."

Jean smiles. "Unfortunately, I think that's true." His eyes flicker off to the side. "Hamish is coming. Sorry about your relationship. I know how devastating that must be for you. Can't imagine if Armin had to be with me."

Jack blinks at the implication, before Jean tosses another sugar cube in his mouth and saunters off.

Hiccup's beside Jack, dressed in an outfit identical to his. "What did Jean Kirstein want?" he asks.

Jack turns and put his lips close to Hiccup's and dropped his eyelids in imitation of Jean. "He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets," He says in his best seductive voice.

Hiccup laughs. "Ugh. That's your attempt to Jean-esque seduction? Really?"

"Really," Jack says. "Anyway, I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling." Then, he frowned thoughtfully. "Y'know Hic, I wonder if we're the only one who got together because of the games."

Hiccup looked at his boyfriend curiously. "What brought this up?"

"Just the way Jean brought up that blondie he volunteered for, so random but..." Jack shrugged. "... The way he mentioned him after saying something about us."

Hiccup's brows knitted together. "Now that you mention it, there was something Dimitri Sudayev mentioned that time when we danced..."

"The new Head Game maker?" Jack repeated confusedly. "What'd he say?"

Before Hiccup could respond, the music is beginning and he sees the wide doors opening for the first chariot, hearing the roar of the crowd.

"To be continued," Jack smirked. "Shall we?" He holds out a hand to help Hiccup into the chariot.

The brunette climbs up and pull Jack up after him. "Hold still," Hiccup says, and straightened Jack's helmet. "Have you seen your suit turned on? We're going to look great again."

"Absolutely. But Elsa says we're to be very above it all. No waving or anything," Jack says.

"Where are they, anyway?"

"I don't know."

Hiccup eyes the procession of chariots. "Maybe we better go ahead and switch ourselves on."

They did, and as they begin to fog up, Jack can see people pointing at them and chattering, and he knows that, once again, they'll be the talk of the opening ceremonies. They're almost at the door. Hiccup cranes his head around, but neither Anna nor Elsa, who were with them right up to the final second last year, are anywhere in sight.

Without a word, they reached out for each other's hands. Hiccup looks up into those winter blue eyes that no amount of dramatic makeup can make truly deadly and remember how, just a year ago, how he would gladly die for the sake of Hiccup returning home.

Now everything is reversed. Pacifist or not, Hiccup's determined to keep Jack alive, knowing the cost will be his own life.

The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as the star-crossed lovers of Twelve roll into the fading evening light, but neither one of them reacts. Jack simply fixes his eyes on Hiccup's, as if there is no audience, no hysteria. Hiccup can't help catching glimpses of them on the huge screens along the route, and they're not just striking, they are bright and hypnotizing.

The star-crossed lovers from District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little of the rewards of their victory, do not seek the fans' favor, grace them with their smiles, or catch their kisses. They care not of the Berkian fans, they are unforgiving. For trying to break them apart once more. They didn't deserve their attention. The only one who deserved Jack and Hiccup's attention are themselves.

As they curve around into the loop of the City Circle, Hiccup can see that a couple of the other stylists have tried to steal Anna and Elsa's idea of illuminating their Lights. The electric-light-studded outfits from District 3, where they make electronics, at least make sense. But what are the livestock keepers from District 10, who are dressed as cows, doing with flaming belts? Broiling themselves? That's just trying hard...

Hiccup and Jack, especially Jack, on the other hand, are so mesmerizing with their mystifying costumes leaving a trail of fog, the colorful lights emitting from their head wear making it more noticeable, that most of the other Lights are staring at them. They seem particularly riveting to the pair from District 6, who are known morphling addicts. Both bone thin, with sagging yellowish skin. They can't tear their overlarge eyes away, even when President Pitchner begins to speak from his balcony, welcoming them all to the Quell. The anthem plays, and as they make their final trip around the circle.

Am I wrong? Or do I see the president fixated on us as well?

Jack and Hiccup wait until the doors of the Training Center have closed behind them to relax. Elsa and Anna are there, pleased with their performance, and Aster has made an appearance this year as well, only he's not at their chariot, he's over with the Lights of District 11.

Jack sees him nod in their direction and then they follow him over to greet them. Jack knew Eret by sight because he spent years watching him conversed with Aster on television. He's very well-toned and Jack's still mistakes his goatee as hair and not the tattoo it really is.

The woman, Maria Feodorovna, looks like she must be around sixty, but she still looks strong, and there's no sign she's turned to liquor or morphling or any other chemical form of escape over the years. Before either of them says a word, she embraces Jack and Hiccup. They knew somehow it must be because of Vanellope and Ralph.

Before Hiccup can stop himself, he whispers, "The families?"

"They're alive," she says back softly before letting them go.

Eret throws his arm around Jack and gives him a big kiss right on the mouth. The white-haired teen jerks back, startled, while he and Aster guffaw. Hiccup looks simply amused. That's about all the time they get before Berkian attendants are firmly directing them toward the elevators. Jack gets the distinct feeling they're not comfortable with the camaraderie among the victors, who couldn't seem to care less. As Jack walks toward the elevators, his hand still linked with Hiccup's, someone else rustles up to his side. The girl pulls off a headdress of leafy branches and tosses it behind her without bothering to look where it falls.

Astrid Hofferson. From District 7 Lumber and paper, thus the tree.

She won by very convincingly portraying herself as weak and helpless so that she would be ignored. Then she demonstrated a wicked ability to murder. She flips her braided ponytail from one side to the other and rolls her wide-set blue eyes.

"Isn't my costume awful? My stylist's the biggest idiot in Berk. Our Lights have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I'd gotten Elsa or even Anna. You look fantastic."

Girl talk. Gay or not, that thing is what Jack's always been so bad at. Opinions on clothes, hair, makeup. So he lies. "Yeah, you could do better. You should see the outfits she made me wear on tour."

"I have. That top you wore in District Two? The deep blue one with the diamonds? So gorgeous I wanted to reach through the screen and tear it right off your back." says Astrid.

I bet you did, Jack thinks. With a few inches of my flesh. While they wait for the elevators, Aster unzips the rest of her tree, letting it drop to the floor, and then kicks it away in disgust. Except for her forest green slippers, she doesn't have on a stitch of clothing.

"That's better."

They ended up on the same elevator with her, and she spends the whole ride to the seventh floor chatting to Hiccup about his paintings while Jack shifted in irritation, jealous about how the two spoke together amiably. He would be hovering if he wasn't so uncomfortable with Astrid's lack of clothing and stayed far from her as possible. When she leaves, Jack ignores his brunette, but he just knows Hiccup's grinning. Jack tosses aside his hand as the doors close behind Eret and Maria, leaving them alone, and Hiccup breaks out laughing.

"What?" Jack says, turning on him as they step out on their floor.

"It's you, Jack. Can't you see?" Hiccup says.

"What's me?" Jack asked.

"Why they're all acting like this. Jean with his sugar cubes and Eret kissing you and that whole thing with Astrid stripping down." Hiccup tries to take on a more serious tone, unsuccessfully. "They're playing with you because you're so… you know."

"No, I don't know," And Jack really has no idea what he's talking about.

"It's like when you wouldn't look at me naked in the arena even though I was half dead. You're so… pure," Hiccup says finally.

Jack gaped, hearing this from who he always thought was purer than the whitest snow. "Look who's talking! And as I recall, you were just as uncomfortable!" Jack protests indignantly.

"Cause I knew you liked me, snowflake. If not for that, I wouldn't bat an eye. I've seen my brother go commando, and as Heather's constantly assigned partner at school, after all that, naked bodies don't faze me let alone bare chests." Hiccup snuggles against Jack. "Unless it's yours of course."

Jack huffed. "Oh we're gonna get back on that Heather thing later, and don't give me that sap and expect me to let that go. I am NOT pure. I've been practically ripping your clothes off every time there's been a camera for the last year!"

"Yeah, but… I mean, for Berk, you're pure," Hiccup says, clearly trying to mollify Jack. It was a nice change, not being the awkward one. "For me, you're perfect. They're just teasing you."

"No, they're laughing at me, and so are you!" Jack grumbled.

"What, noooo..." Hiccup shakes his head, but he's still suppressing a smile.

Aster and Tooth, with Hiccup's cat in her arms, joined them, looking pleased about something. Then Aster's face grows hard.

What did we do now? Jack almost says, but he see he's staring behind them at the entrance to the dining room.

Tooth blinks in the same direction, then says, "Looks like they've got you a matched set this year."

Hiccup turned around and find the golden-haired Sandys boy who tended to him last year until the Games began. He thinks how nice it is to have a friend here. The brunette notices that the robust man beside the boy, another Sandys, also has blond hair. That must be what Tooth meant by a matched set. Then a chill runs through him. Because Hiccup knows him, too. Not from Berk but from years of having easy conversations in the Hob, joking over Gothi's soup, and that last day watching him lie unconscious in the square while the life bled out of his father and lover. Their new Sandys is Gobber.

Aster grips Hiccup's wrist as if anticipating his next move, but the brunette's as speechless as Berk's torturers have rendered Gobber. Aster once told him they did something to Sandys' tongues so they could never talk again. In his head Hiccup hears Gobber's voice, playful and bright, ringing across the Hob to tease him. Not as his fellow victors make fun of Jack now, but because they genuinely liked each other. If the people on Twelve could see him, if Snotlout could see him…

Hiccup knows any move he would make toward Gobber, any act of recognition, would only result in punishment for him. So they just stared into each other's eyes. Gobber, now a mute slave; Hiccup, now headed to death. What would they say, anyway? That they're sorry for the other's lot? That they ached for the other's pain? That they're glad they had the chance to know each other?

No, Gobber shouldn't be glad he knew me. Or my dad.

If they had been there earlier to stop Alvin, he wouldn't have stepped forward to save Stoick. Wouldn't be a Sandys. And more specifically, wouldn't be their Sandys, because President Pitchner has so obviously had him placed here for their benefit. Hiccup twists his wrist from Aster's grasp and head down to his old bedroom, tugging Jack after him, Toothless jumping out of Tooth's arm to follow immediately. Locking the door behind them, Hiccup launches himself into Jack's strong, comforting arms, knocking them both onto the bed. Toothless follows suit, getting on, and Jack just strokes his brown hair lovingly, humming the soft lullaby he sung back when they lost Toothless. Hiccup brought said feline nearer to him upon hearing it.

A/N: How did you guys find it? Please leave a review if you can manage it, thanks!